


Unauthorized Use

by JaneDuJour



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Dubious Consent, Legal Jargon, M/M, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2013-08-21
Packaged: 2017-12-20 04:33:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 39,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/882985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneDuJour/pseuds/JaneDuJour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A former client of Harvey's with a personal vendetta takes an interest Mike, who finds an opportunity to prove to himself that he can put Harvey's needs ahead of his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a two-part fic taking place about a month after the Season 2 finale.
> 
> I chose not to include Archive Warnings, but please note the additional tags. The sex in this chapter teeters between non-con and dub-con, so please don't read it if this bothers you.
> 
> Thanks once more to littlegirltree for being my faithful beta reader!

Mike wasn’t totally prepared to meet with his client that afternoon, so when she called to postpone he couldn’t have been more relieved for the precious minutes he would be spared to devote to other tasks. Harvey had apparently put aside quite a substantial amount of reading material for him to summarize, and he was itching to get home to his couch and his TV before midnight. Maybe fold a bit of laundry, or wash that cereal bowl that had been sitting in his kitchen sink for over a week now. He would have to work fast to make time for these things. It was incredible how motivating the prospect of doing something unimportant could be.

 

Harvey hadn’t spoken more than a few words to him since he uttered the phrase _"you’re fired"_ a few weeks earlier, but Mike knew that things had been extremely difficult with the merger and he tried – really, _really_ tried – not to hold it against him. The best he could do was stay out of his way, work hard, and fantasize that things would go back to normal eventually. Not that their ‘normal’ was ever normal. Still, as much as he pretended he could forgive and forget that Harvey had said what he did, desperate to believe that he never meant it, Mike couldn’t deny that it hurt. A lot. He had debated whether or not he should have even bothered returning to work at all after that but ultimately decided that he had more to lose by walking away now than by hanging onto the vine just a little longer.

 

Harvey had tried to avoid contact with Mike, but their working relationship hadn’t really changed that much on paper. Officially, he was still Harvey’s associate as much as the man had tried to shake him loose and make it known that he was unwanted. Jessica wanted him there, so there he was. Although Harvey had been granted permission to look outside the firm for another associate, it was more of a gesture than anything else. The search hadn’t lasted more than a couple of days before he gave up and poured 60 hours of backlogged work onto Mike’s desk... exactly where it should have gone in the first place. Despite the breach of trust, Harvey knew Mike’s name and he knew what to expect from him when it came to day-to-day tasks, but he certainly wouldn’t entrust him with any information he didn’t want to share with Jessica or Louis or anyone else. The work was still flowing between them, but their 'conversations' were terse, cold and few. Every time they did speak, Harvey found a way to remind him how disposable and unwelcome he was. It was lonely, to say the least. Mike kept waiting for it to get easier.

 

As Mike approached Harvey’s office to gather his assignments for the weekend, Donna flashed her big eyes up at him and shook her head discretely but urgently, stopping Mike in his tracks a few feet from Harvey’s door. Donna’s index finger was pressed to the earbud she wore, no doubt eavesdropping as usual. Suddenly she plucked the bud from her ear and turned to her computer.

 

Mike glanced into Harvey’s office just as he saw him rise from his seat, mirroring the guy across from him. He saw the man extend his hand across Harvey’s desk, and he saw Harvey pretend not to notice it as he circled the desk and led the man towards the door.

 

_Burn._

 

Mike looked over at Donna, whose tense expression confirmed that whatever this was, it wasn’t good.

 

“I’ll give you the weekend to think it over,” said the man as Harvey led him out the door. He seemed disgustingly confident and chipper about whatever trouble he was causing, his face stretching tightly around his condescending grin. Mike estimated that he was about the same age as Harvey but the work he seemed to have had done on his face made him a little robotic, as if he’d shown a picture of a 16-year old mannequin to his cosmetic surgeon. His teeth were too white and his eyebrows were waxed and trimmed too neatly. He had the kind of face that would sound really good being slapped. This guy wasn’t even wearing a suit. Designer jeans, a t-shirt and a jacket. He wore it well enough though, like a washed-up pop star.

 

“I expect you to do the same,” Harvey responded flatly, not even bothering to fake it. Mike could easily detect the barely-veiled warning in his boss’ voice.

 

Although Harvey barely acknowledged Mike for more than a second with a reluctant glance, the man next to him followed Harvey’s brief gaze and landed on Mike.

 

“Who are you?” he asked, as if Mike had somehow infringed on his territory, but Mike had never seen this guy around the office before. _He_ was the stranger.

 

“Just an associate,” Harvey cut in, shifting on his feet so that he physically severed the strange gaze the man was laying on Mike.

 

Jaw left hanging around an introduction, Mike was annoyed with Harvey for cutting him off but he told himself that it wasn’t personal. Any time Harvey did or said anything within earshot, Mike repeated that to himself.

 

_It’s not personal. It’s not personal. It’s not personal._

Mike was beginning to wonder why he thought that would make him feel better.

 

“We’re done here,” Harvey decided, nodding down the hallway before opening his office door. He sternly ushered Mike inside without looking at him. “Where’s the client?”

 

“Couldn’t make it,” Mike said, following Harvey to his desk. “Some kind of a family thing. She’s coming in next week.” Mike glanced back to see that Donna appeared to be giving Harvey’s pain-in-the-ass directions, probably out of the building and far, far away. “What was that about?”

 

“You don’t need to know.” Harvey exhaled deeply, shuffling through a pile of papers on his normally tidy desk with one eye on the man lurking outside his door. Mike probably would have asked again if they hadn’t been on such thin ice, but apparently he didn’t have to because Harvey dropped a handful of papers onto his desk and leaned back in his chair, exasperated. “That idiot thinks he can sue me. I guess every time he needs a new yacht he waits until his profits dip, whips out his shit-list and finds someone to pin his losses on.”

 

“If he’s an idiot then why are you worried?” Mike shook his head at his own thoughtlessness. He really needed to avoid contradicting Harvey right now.

 

“He’s a very _detail-oriented_ idiot,” Harvey mumbled.

 

“Just like me,” Mike offered, attempting to imply that maybe he could be helpful, but Harvey didn’t seem to hear him.

 

 “Low-life, parasite, con artist. That’s all he is.” Harvey glanced out into the hall momentarily, then threw a stone-cold glare at Mike. “This doesn’t concern you. Why are you still hanging around my office? Don’t you have any work to do?”

 

“Um... that’s why I’m here.” Mike blinked a couple times, trying not to stammer. “You told me you’d have some corporate leases for me to work on, and those bylaws—“

 

“Shit, the bylaws.” Harvey rubbed his eyes. “You know what, forget it. I didn’t... I don’t have the material. Do it next week.” Harvey flipped open a binder and pretended to give its contents all of his available attention.

 

This was the longest conversation they’d carried out in a month. A small part of Mike was selfishly grateful that Harvey was so distracted by his own fuck-ups that Mike’s fuck-ups didn’t seem to deserve any attention... whatever they were. There was always something. It still genuinely concerned him to see Harvey this way though.

 

When Mike opened his mouth again, he knew he was about to be shut down but he had to try. “I want to help. Tell me what I can do.”

 

“You can stay as far away from Jonathan Kendall as possible. That’s what you can do.” Harvey turned a page. “And just... get out of my face for the rest of the day, Mike. Go home.”

 

= = =

 

It was Jonathan Kendall who held the elevator door for him, though Mike didn’t realize it until he was already in the box.

 

“Thanks,” Mike mumbled, trying not to make eye contact, but he knew he was being looked at.

 

Jonathan extended his hand. “We weren’t really introduced. I’m Jon—“

 

“I know who you are,” Mike interrupted... but then he felt a little bad. Honestly, he didn’t know this person and he usually liked to form his own opinion. With a sigh he accepted the hand and shook it. “Mike Ross.”

 

“And you’re not ‘ _just an associate’_ , are you,” he observed. “You’re _Harvey Specter’s_ associate. Good for you.”

 

Mike took his hand back. “We’ll see,” he muttered under his breath, his words falling straight to his shoes. Every day he expected Harvey to have hired someone new and he was a little surprised that he hadn’t been replaced yet. Mike didn’t even know why he’d been sent home, or if he was supposed to consider it some kind of suspension.

 

The elevator chimed and Mike hustled out quickly, but not quickly enough. Jonathan kept pace beside him as they crossed the foyer.

 

“Ross, I’m not in this part of town that often. Do you know a good place to grab a quick bite? Something healthy?”

 

“Uh...” Mike paused at the entrance of the building and gave up on his courtesy. “To tell you the truth, I don’t think I’m really supposed to be talking to you right now, so.” He shrugged apologetically.

 

Jonathan paused and nodded with an understanding half-smile. “Harvey didn’t tell you much, did he.”

 

Mike shook his head. “It’s none of my business.”

 

“Of course it’s your business. You’re his associate. You want to know, don’t you?” He gave Mike a small, encouraging nod, and he couldn’t deny it. “Grab a bite with me. I’ll tell you all about it. Off the record, of course.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Do I need a reason to talk to you?”

 

Mike nodded.

 

Jonathan looked a little embarrassed all of the sudden. “It’s alright.” He shrugged and bit his lip, a shy smile forming on his plastic face. “If you don’t want to have a meal with me, I understand. I thought I’d give it a shot. No big deal.”

 

Mike ground his teeth and considered things. The mild flirtation seemed harmless enough and given the stare that the man had given him earlier it didn’t exactly come as a surprise. He still had the whole day ahead of him, and if this mess was enough to rattle Harvey the way it did, he wanted to know more about it. If he couldn’t get that information from Harvey, his opponent was the next best place to start. For whatever reason, this person seemed to take an immediate liking to Mike and maybe that would come in useful down the road if Harvey let him help out.

 

“Okay,” Mike decided reluctantly, pushing open the door and holding it for Jonathan. He led him to the sidewalk. “Next block over, around that corner, they do smoothies and salads, stuff like that. I can meet you there in five.”

 

Jonathan smiled but said nothing. With a nod, he slid his hands into his pockets and strolled towards the corner.

 

Mike pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and called Donna.

 

_“Harvey didn’t fire you again, did he?”_

 

“Not... really.” He watched the man disappear around the side of the building. “Donna, what can you tell me about this Jonathan Kendall thing?”

 

_“If Harvey wanted your help he’d ask for it, Mike.”_

“No, he wouldn’t.”

 

 _“So maybe he wouldn’t ask for help,”_ she agreed abruptly. _“But don’t even bother. This one is a lost cause. It’s not official at this point, but I’m pretty sure they’re settling.”_

“Settling. Okay good, so why is Harvey so stressed out?”

 

_“The settlement would be... substantial.”_

 “How much?”

 

“ _To be honest, there’s not much I can tell you. All I know for sure is that this guy is after Harvey’s reputation, which is more valuable than his money. What he’s got left of it.”_ She paused briefly. _“Stay out of trouble. I mean it, Mike. Hands off this one.”_

After Donna hung up on him, Mike slid his phone into his pocket and picked up his pace. If she really wanted him to stay out of trouble, she wouldn’t have told him a damn thing. Probably.

 

= = =

 

“So what is it that you do, exactly?” Mike scooped up a forkful of kale-slaw and avocado but he didn’t eat it. He wasn’t hungry.

 

“Fitness.” Jonathan took a sip of his smoothie through a fat straw.

 

Mike wondered if he wanted a more specific answer or not. Already familiar with the man’s reputation for being less than honest, Mike was willing to bet that he could find a liposuction scar if he looked for it. Maybe he was one of those aging swimwear models who had retired to cable television doing home fitness infomercials, selling faulty machines that burned people alive in their homes...

 

Clearly seeing the gears turning in Mike’s head, Jonathan swallowed and hummed a moment before explaining. “We started by opening up a gym, which became a franchise, which spawned an active-wear clothing line, which spawned retail franchise... and so on. You’ve got something.”

 

Before Mike could catch up, Jonathan was already reaching across the table to wipe some invisible smudge from the corner of his mouth with his thumb. Mike was absolutely certain there was nothing on his face. He hadn’t eaten yet. This guy was fucking shameless, but at least his signals were clear.

 

“When you say ‘we’...?” Once both of Jonathan’s hands had safely returned to his side of the table again, Mike decided to pretend that he wasn’t bothered by the touch.

 

“My wife and I.”

 

Mike had been expecting him to say "partner" and suddenly felt a little powerless at the word "wife". It was a lot harder to get straight men to like him, but he could still play the good cop and see how far it would get him. Maybe there really had been something on his face. Or maybe Jonathan was just bisexual. Or maybe Mike was really as self-centred as he was afraid.

 

“Well. Wife at the time. Ex-wife now,” he added, indifferently swirling his straw around in his liquid meal.

 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Mike put some kale in his mouth so that he didn’t have so say anything else on the matter. He hoped and prayed that Harvey hadn’t slept with the wife and fucked up the guy’s marriage and business partnership. He knew Harvey had standards, but it wasn’t impossible and it might explain why Harvey was on his shit-list.

 

“That’s not what you want to hear about.” He touched his napkin to his lip. “You want to know why I’m suing your boss.”

 

Mike swallowed his food and nodded, grateful that the divorce seemed to be unrelated to his issue with Harvey.

 

Jonathan cleared his throat for what seemed to be well-rehearsed monologue. “Nearly three years ago Harvey was my lawyer. Given the circumstances of my little issue there was certain information that I had no choice but to entrust to him, not to be used in trial, but to help him prepare for my case. You know how it is. But when he didn’t like what I had to say, he not only cut me loose but he also broke our nondisclosure, leaking some extremely unpopular information that almost put us out of business. I have nearly three years of losses to recuperate.”

 

Mike wasn’t sure which part to tackle first. “You think he intentionally sabotaged your business?”

 

“I believe he wanted to.”

 

“That doesn’t seem like Harvey.” And yet, Donna told him they were going to settle. “Did he ever admit to being the leak? How do you know it was him?”

 

Jonathan took another drink of his smoothie, grinning around the straw. He swallowed, shrugged and replied: “Word of mouth starts somewhere. It was just a matter of navigating. And no, actually, he doesn’t deny doing what he did, because—“ He laughed abruptly. “Because it was three years ago and apparently he can’t remember saying what he said, but he can’t remember _not_ saying it either. It doesn’t really matter, I have witnesses. He knows what he did. Whether or not it was his intention to sabotage me in the process is irrelevant, because no client will be interested in a lawyer who doesn’t know how to keep secrets. _Especially_ when he allows his more... _traditional_ attitudes to interfere with his modern legal responsibilities.”

 

Mike shook his head, nearly laughing. “You’re saying Harvey’s old-fashioned? Is this about the vests?”

 

Jonathan leaned forward in his seat a little, a hint of distain tugging at the corner of his lips. “Let me tell you something about your boss. When someone came at me with a discrimination suit, nobody would take my case. They didn’t want any part of it and figured I had a losing battle on my hands. Everyone said I was homophobic.” He rolled his eyes. “Please. Like a bunch of limp-wristed fairies are anything to be afraid of.”

 

Mike had been way off the mark with this guy when he saw how he had been looking at him back at the office. The metrosexuality thing still did a number on his gay-dar.

 

“Every lawyer I went to decided _immediately_ that I did what I was accused of.”

 

“What _exactly_ were you accused of?”

 

“Discrimination. Harassment. Extortion.” He waved his hand at the pesky accusations. “Just petty, bitter revenge tactics. But your boss wasn’t fazed. He took my case. Loves to play the devil’s advocate, doesn’t he? But I wanted him to know that I’m a good, fair person and that I’ve never done anything wrong.” He placed his hand over his heart in a rehearsed act of sincerity and appeared to be holding his laughter down. “I detailed a few aspects of my personal life that _certainly_ contradicted the allegations against me, but this was strictly confidential. My business catered to a very specific demographic that I needed to reflect. I was married. I voted conservative. I drove a sports utility vehicle.”

 

“What did you tell him?” Mike took a sip of water, dying to get to the point so he could go take a nap.

 

“It’s out there now so I might as well say it: I was fucking the plaintiff.”

 

Mike managed to disguise it when a bit of his water went down the wrong pipe. “And that... never came up during the trial?”

 

“ _As if_ he wanted to admit that any more than I did. It would be embarrassing, his lawsuit would look like a personal attack. Anyway, when I broke it off with him, for the sake of my marriage...” He rolled his eyes. “Well, one thing led to another—“

 

“Hold on, what thing led to what--?”

 

“And after I banned him from my gym for lewd conduct,” Jonathan continued, adamantly skimming the details, “he wrangled his buddies and came at me with a discrimination suit.”

 

“Were a lot of men banned for ‘lewd conduct’?”

 

“A few. We have a strict don’t-ask-don’t-tell policy, and most people appreciate it. You don’t want some guy staring at your junk in the shower, do you? Same goes for my retail outlets. How would you feel about some fairy peeping in on you in the dressing room? Trying to cop a feel while he’s helping you with a zipper?”

 

“That’s never been a problem for me,” Mike stated diplomatically, trying not to get angry at the man’s apparently wilful ignorance. “It sounds like you had a losing case on your hands.”

 

“Wrong,” Jonathan stated matter-of-factly. “This kid was too sensitive, that’s all. Some people just... don’t know how to handle rejection. I guess.”

 

Mike saw Jonathan’s jaw tighten, noticed him rolling his crushed straw between his tightly clamped finger and thumb, and began to wonder who had really broken off the “relationship” between Jonathan and the plaintiff. The man sitting across from him was one of the most unattractive human beings he’d ever met and Mike couldn’t imagine how anyone could have pursued any level of involvement with him in the first place.

 

“Anyway, I guess he couldn’t sue me for being an asshole. And maybe running a fag-free gym _did_ make me an asshole, but that doesn’t matter now.” He smiled. “I got a new lawyer and I won. I officially welcome the homos with open arms.” He demonstrated. “ _Unofficially_ , they can stay the fuck out of my place of business and find somewhere else to cruise if they know what’s good for them.”

 

There must have been some obscure plot on the Kinsey scale that accounted for awkwardly metrosexual self-loathing gay men in unfaithful heterosexual relationships. Mike suddenly felt uncomfortable with the volume of their conversation. His eyes darted around the café to see if anyone had overheard Jonathan’s words but nobody was paying attention.

 

“So you won, okay. But uh...” Mike took a deep breath, suddenly finding it a little more difficult to be nice to this person. He was distracted by what seemed to have been a loose suggestion that Harvey was homophobic. There was another side to this. “You still suffered losses?” 

 

“ _Substantial_ losses.”

 

“And... you don’t think that had anything to do with the fact that you were accused of discrimination?” Mike wasn’t totally certain how somebody could keep a place "fag-free", as Jonathan so eloquently put it, but it wasn’t a conversation he wanted to be seen or heard having in public. “What does Harvey have to do with your losses exactly?”

 

“You look uncomfortable,” Jonathan noted, ignoring his questions.

 

Mike was caught a little off-guard. “No.” That was all he could manage. The way his eyes roamed around Mike’s face and shoulders certainly wasn’t making him any _more_ comfortable, but at least he hadn’t tried to touch him again.

 

“Yes you are. You don’t like me?”

 

Mike sucked his lip in momentarily. “It’s not that. It’s just, I don’t... I’m _trying_ to understand you. But anyway, why is it that you think Harvey—“

 

“Well you _should_ like me, Mike, because I’m the guy that’s going to get you back in your boss’ good books.”

 

Mike shut his mouth and blinked. Yes. Yes, that’s what he ultimately wanted, but this meeting was more intended to satisfy his curiosity than anything else. He didn’t like being in the dark, not knowing what was making things for Harvey even harder than they already were and feeling completely useless. Jonathan was giving him information, but not the information he wanted. This seemed to have nothing to do with Harvey.

 

“That’s why we’re here, right?” Jonathan offered him a half smile. “You want to try to charm me into coming down a little easier on your boss. Maybe renegotiating. To tell you the truth, Mike, you haven’t done a great job at charming me so far, and if you’re going to get all sensitive about the whiney faggots who want gym memberships so they can drool all over the _real_ men that my brand caters to, well... then we’re just not going to get anywhere, are we?”

 

Mike knew he’d been asked a question but he had no idea what the correct answer was supposed to be. It was weird hearing Harvey referred to only as his "boss" over and over again, it was weird trying to navigate this guy’s prejudice, and it was weird that Jonathan was so conscious of Mike’s situation at work. His motivations were ultimately no secret, but he should have been presenting what he could do for Jonathan, not hearing what Jonathan could do for him.

 

“You didn’t answer my question,” Mike said. He had barely answered any of them.

 

“Are you serious about renegotiating? I’d like to talk more but this isn’t the place to do it.” For the first time, Jonathan’s smile looked sincere. “I like you, Mike. I have a good feeling about you. I’m open to being swayed. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

 

“Are you serious?” This was a lot easier than Mike wanted it to be. Something wasn’t right. “I could make time to meet next week. Who’s representing you now? I’ll have to look over some details...”

 

“How about right now?”

 

“Uh...” This guy was impossible to get a grip on. “But you just said—“

 

“I said not _here._ ” He began to shrug on his jacket. “I’m only in New York until the end of the weekend, then it’s back to Miami. Which, by the way, is where my lawyer is.”

 

It took a dangerous combination of balls and stupidity coming to New York without a lawyer to negotiate a settlement with Harvey Specter. Again, it told him something wasn’t right.

 

“I’m renting an apartment in Soho,” Jonathan said as he stood. Mike did the same. “You’d be surprised how flexible I can be. I’m a fair guy. I want everyone to walk away happy. You could make me happy, couldn’t you, Ross?”

 

Mike couldn’t respond to that. He didn’t want to. When had he lost control of the conversation?

 

 “And to tell you the truth, this whole thing with your boss was something of an afterthought. I was coming to New York anyway and I could use a little spending money.”

 

Mike wanted to reach across and strangle him and scream: THAT’S NOT HOW IT WORKS, YOU BASTARD. YOU IDIOT. YOU DON’T GET TO FUCK WITH HARVEY ON A WHIM, HE’S GOT ENOUGH TO DEAL WITH. But all he could do was blink.

 

“I need to hear Harvey’s take on things first,” Mike decided sternly.

 

Jonathan nodded sympathetically. “But he’s not interested in sharing his take with you. And didn’t you say that you weren’t even supposed to speak with me? On Harvey’s advice, I assume.”

 

 “He told me to stay as far away as possible,” Mike confessed, and he was starting to suspect he should have listened.

 

Jonathan reached into his pocket and withdrew his cellphone. “And I suppose if I gave him a call and told him about your unorthodox confrontation with me outside the office—“

 

Mike’s stomach flopped and he immediately raised a hand in protest. “Just – okay. Don’t do that.” He watched Jonathan slowly lower his phone back into his pocket. “Right now, I can give you...” He shrugged. “An hour, maybe. But we need more time before we can settle anything. There are other parties involved. I need to know what’s going on.” He didn’t want Jonathan to know he wasn’t supposed to return to the office that day. As far as this guy was concerned, Mike was a busy man with lots of important people depending on him, even if those people may have been the cast of _Friends_ waiting to soothe him into a numb lull on his couch.

 

“Be a little more generous with your... time,” Jonathan said as his eyes flickered down momentarily, “and I promise that you will be able to convince me to not only renegotiate the settlement, but... hell with it, to drop the whole thing. Three hours, that’s all I’m asking.”

 

Mike scratched his head. This was weird. “No offence, but this is bullshit right?” He forced a dry laugh.

 

“No, it’s not bullshit.”

 

“What makes you think I’m capable of convincing you of anything? You don’t even know me. And why torment Harvey with an outrageous settlement and then just... drop it?” Either Jonathan was insane, or he thought that Mike was.

 

Jonathan put his hands on the table and leaned across as if he were going to tell a secret. “It gives me a kick,” he confessed with a wink.

 

“Fuck off,” Mike said as politely as he knew how. He did not like being winked at.

 

“But it’s the truth. As a matter of fact, it’s the slogan for my kickboxing DVDs.”

 

Mike’s eyes started to burn, which is when he realized he’d been staring in disbelief. He didn’t want to trust Jonathan, but if he really was as crazy as he was making himself out to be, who knew what was possible?

 

= = =

 

It was hard not to look around the sparsely furnished industrial loft and take in all the details. Mike didn’t want to seem impressed. It was almost a waste of space, probably better spent on someone cool like an architect or a musician rather than the aging jock who was presently cracking open a couple of beers. For the third time since Mike and Jonathan arrived at the apartment, Mike caught himself wondering what the fuck he was doing there.

 

 _To help Harvey_ , he reminded himself. _To do something useful. To make his life easier, and by extension, to make_ your _life easier._ It was still doubtful that he could achieve all that. The scarier truth was that he wanted to see if he was really capable of putting Harvey’s interests above his own. He’d failed in that respect so many times. Whether or not they had it in writing, it was a part of his job because he owed everything to the man. But even if he could muster the unfathomable charm to talk Jonathan out of Harvey’s life, Mike wouldn’t get any credit for it because he wasn’t supposed to be there. At least Mike would know he’d made an effort, even if nobody else knew. And if he failed... nobody else would know that either.

 

“Like I said,” began Jonathan, handing a beer to Mike, who had yet to have been offered a seat. “We can absolutely settle this now, but if we do, your Harvey Specter can’t know that you had a hand in it. I wouldn’t want you to get into any trouble.”

 

“We’ll see.” He still wasn’t certain what kind of secret he was going to have to keep. Mike took a drink and thought a moment. “Why don’t you just tell me right now what you’d be willing to accept in lieu of a settlement fee. It seems like you know what you want.”

 

Jonathan smiled, seeming genuinely amused. “Straight to it. I like that.”

 

“I don’t want to waste your time.”

 

“Understood,” Jonathan said with a nod.

 

“Right. So, you better get your lawyer on the phone.”

 

Jonathan laughed, and it wasn’t for show. “My lawyer. You’re cute, you know, you really are.”

 

Every couple of minutes Jonathan found a new way to make his guts squirm. “It’s for your own protection,” Mike explained as patiently as he could.

 

“Forget about my lawyer.” Jonathan dismissed the thought with a casual wave of his hand. “Forget about the law. Just come over here and we’ll sit and talk for a minute, okay?”

 

“I can’t forget about the law.” Mike watched Jonathan take a seat on a firm, navy sofa, gesturing expectantly next to him. “I’m a lawyer. That’s why I’m here.”

 

“You’re not a very good lawyer,” Jonathan critiqued gently, sipping his beer. “You must be aware of how unethical this meeting is, and so far you haven’t even offered me anything.”

 

“It would help if you gave me something to work with,” Mike snapped, scraping at the label on the beer bottle with his thumbnail. “I need details.”

 

“Well actually, you don’t. But since you’re asking nicely...” Jonathan draped his arm over the back of the sofa and settled in a little more comfortably. He cleared his throat. “Harvey not only broke our nondisclosure concerning my... _relationship_ with the plaintiff, if you can call it that, but he also called me a ‘faggot’ in open court. This of course was the day he withdrew his services. Before I had the opportunity to fire him.”

 

Mike almost laughed. “I don’t believe you. Harvey would never—“

 

“It’s on record,” Jonathan said with a shrug. “There’s no denying it. My reputation hasn’t been the same since and my business has suffered a steady decline. Not since the trail, but since the time he breached our contract. I have the numbers. I can show you.”

 

Mike shook his head. He _really_ needed to hear Harvey’s side of this. “Tell me about the nondisclosure. If that was a separate incident from... what you _claim_ occurred in court, how did you find out about it?”

 

“They’re related.” Jonathan sighed and tapped the cushion next to him. “Mike. Come sit. Then we’ll talk.”

 

Mike really didn’t want to get any closer. He took a minute to finish his beer, pacing a little but unable to shake the man’s hard gaze. He placed the bottle on the kitchen counter and crossed the space to sit not on the couch next to Jonathan but on the chair across from him. Jonathan looked somewhat irritated but he continued anyway.

 

“As you know, your boss has some high-profile friends and clients,” he said, looking less enthusiastic by the second. It was becoming increasingly clear that he didn’t want to talk about the details. “Athletes. The kind of people who _my_ people look up to.”

 

Mike nodded. Harvey was certainly connected. If he had Michael Jordan in his phone, anyone could be in there.

 

“When certain details began to surface, and rumours that my wife was a front for my image – and she was, don’t get me wrong – it didn’t take long to sift through the social media and discover that the allegations originated with a fairly well-respected icon in the fitness world.” Jonathan shook his head, finally exposing a fraction of the toll this may have actually taken on him. “Of course it came as no surprise when I learned that he was the very next client in line after your boss and I parted ways. I guess my private life was still on the tip of his tongue.”

 

There it was again: "your boss". Jonathan was adamant about referring to Harvey in such a way that it constantly reminded Mike of his own inferiority by relation. He cleared his throat feeling a little overwhelmed and very irritated, suddenly regretting the decision to try to get involved.

 

“Can I ask who the—“

 

“No, you may not,” Jonathan interrupted. “Unlike some people, privacy is a matter that I choose to respect.”

 

Mike somehow doubted that. “And you’re not going after the athlete for your losses because—“

 

“Because he’s not the one who signed a nondisclosure and then promptly broke it, to another client no less, who also happened to be a client of mine at the time. Your boss did that.”

 

“Harvey. _Harvey._ His name is _Harvey Specter,_ not _‘Your Boss’._ ” Mike could feel himself flushing but he hoped it would go unnoticed.

 

Jonathan’s eyebrow peaked ever so slightly. “Touchy.” He sighed and drank back the remainder of his beer, setting the bottle on the table between them. “Anyway, apparently calling someone ‘gay’ is no longer considered slander...”

 

“But calling someone ‘faggot’ is. The intent is malicious.”

 

“Malice, exactly. That’s how I know that his disregard for my privacy was something other than absent-mindedness. I mean it’s not exactly my only clue but it’s in the court transcripts.”

 

Mike leaned forward and rubbed his eyes. “Even if you’re telling me the truth, what I don’t get is why Harvey’s willing to settle for three years of losses. It just seems excessive.”

 

“He knows he can’t afford to get involved. Not now. I know what’s happening with your firm,” Jonathan explained. He seemed proud of himself. “I could easily dip my toe in the other pool at any moment and get the full force of the rainbow behind me. It would be remarkably simple to get just about every one of New York’s gay rights groups involved when I tell them that Harvey Specter refuses to represent gays. He’ll shit sequins for a year if I come after him.”

 

Mike didn’t know where to begin. “First of all, don’t expect me to believe for one second that you actually have the time and motivation to follow through on a gay rights campaign. And you’re the homophobic one, not Harvey. A lot of our clients are gay.” Mike made that last part up. Were _any_ of their clients gay? There wouldn’t be much way of knowing.

 

“He’s homophobic if I say he is. Don’t underestimate how much time these people have on their hands, and how quickly I can always rebrand. I’m probably heading in that direction anyway. Homos are a smaller demographic but they’re loyal, and they’ve got money.”

 

Mike forced himself to stop grinding his teeth. “Okay. For the record, just so I’m clear on your feelings here... your orientation...?”

 

“You first.”

 

Mike was not obligated to play this game so he didn’t. He knew right away that he shouldn’t have asked.

 

Jonathan simply grinned and crossed his legs. “You don’t know how insecure straight men can be. Some of them can’t even watch man-on-lady porn because they’re terrified of accidentally seeing a dick while they’re blowing their load. They want to look good, but _strictly_ for a female audience. They want to dress well, but they don’t want anyone to know that they care about fashion. They want to hang out in a gym full of sweat and muscle and testosterone... but they don’t want to enjoy it. My wife and I did our best to sustain an environment that would nurture those insecurities. But now all the conservative closet-cases think I’m too gay, and the gays all think I’m too homophobic.”

 

“And you’re saying... Harvey’s responsible for that.”

 

“It was never supposed to get political, but that’s out of my hands now.”

 

Mike thought for a moment. “Wait, why wouldn’t I know how insecure straight men can be?”

 

Jonathan laughed. “You just don’t seem very... insecure. That, and you’re pretty confident that your boss – sorry _, your Harvey_ – is unquestionably gay-friendly. Maybe you have a more intimate understanding of his personality than I have...” His words evaporated with his painfully bright porcelain smile.

 

Mike knew what Jonathan was doing and it wasn’t funny. He counted out the problems on his fingers: “He’s not ‘mine’, he’s not homophobic, and there is nothing about our working relationship that I would describe as ‘intimate’. Just so we’re clear.” Mike laughed anxiously at the ridiculousness of Jonathan's word choices, and hoped he wasn't giving away how uncomfortable he was getting.

 

Jonathan was still for a moment, looking Mike up and down, undoubtedly trying to find a crack in his truth where there was none. “Right,” he settled.

 

“So what is it that you want,” Mike demanded, at the end of his rope. “What is this really about? I don’t really give a shit about the transcripts and the profit margins.” If Jonathan really wanted to settle this today, there was no way for Mike to confirm the man’s claims that quickly. “This is a personal vendetta, right?”

 

“Some people might call it that.”

 

“Fine. That’s fine.” If he’d asked that first, it might have saved him a lot of time. “If you really want to waste your time and resources on wasting Harvey’s time and resources just because he pissed you off three years ago, that’s your prerogative.” Jonathan’s version of the situation sounded like a complete waste of time, but he couldn’t deny that Harvey was willing to settle. That’s what confirmed that there was something to this mess. If it wasn’t for that, he wouldn’t have given this claim a second more of his time. “You told me that you were willing to drop it, but for what? An apology in writing? A cake? A pat on the back? _What?_ ”

 

“Getting warmer,” Jonathan coaxed.

 

“Stop fucking around.”

 

“But I _like_ fucking around,” Jonathan teased. “Can I get you another drink? Something better than beer?”

 

Mike watched him get up off the couch and move towards the kitchen, the back of his hand brushing Mike’s shoulder as he passed. It could have been unintentional, but it most definitely wasn’t.

 

“Don’t get me a drink, get me your lawyer. On the phone. Now, please.” Mike stood and followed Jonathan to the kitchen. He really needed to talk to someone who spoke his language.

 

“Relax,” Jonathan said softly as he finished pouring a tumbler of whisky.

 

“This is a legal matter and we need to do this the right way. I know you understand that.” Out of habit, Mike accepted the drink into his hand when it was passed to him.

 

“I liked you so much better when you were being a bad lawyer.” Jonathan lifted his own glass and downed it with a refreshed sigh worthy of a Coca Cola commercial, pouring another right away.

 

“Look, I know that this is all bullshit, so don’t tell me it’s not. Why Harvey’s willing to settle is beyond me, but he is. And he shouldn’t have to. Tell me what you want right now or I’m leaving this to him. As much as I know he doesn’t have time for your shit, I also know that you _really_ don’t enjoy wasting your time on him either.” Or maybe he did. Lots of people did stupid things to get Harvey Specter’s attention. Including Mike.

 

Jonathan leaned against the bar. “But wouldn’t you feel better in the morning if you could tell yourself that it was all _your_ idea? I just know that you can come up with some brilliant, creative way to distract the opposition and keep him happy until he leaves town with a smile on his face and not a second thought about Harvey Specter.”

 

Mike tore his gaze from Jonathan’s and put it into his glass.

 

_Shit._

 

He told himself to leave right away because this really was a lost cause, just like Donna told him, but for some reason his feet were heavy and he was stuck in that kitchen. There was still a chance that he could do something really good for Harvey. He wasn’t certain it was a chance worth taking until he remembered that working with Harvey and making him proud and happy was the only rewarding experience he had left in his life. There was nobody else. He had to try. He had to prove to himself that he was willing, even if that was all he could do.

 

Mike shook his head briefly before he downed the whisky. It was a brand he didn’t recognize. He cleared his throat and asked the inevitable: “Why me?” If it was intimacy that Jonathan was after, which was a fact Mike could no longer ignore, he could have easily found it elsewhere without giving up his money... or at least, less of it.

 

“You have something to gain for yourself, and you have something to offer to both parties. You’re the perfect facilitator.” Jonathan ran his finger up Mike’s arm. He forced himself to stand still by pretending not to notice the contact. “And I won’t lie... I _never_ lie,” Jonathan lied. “I just don’t find any interest in people I’m allowed to have. So boring. You are totally out of bounds, Mike Ross. Your Harvey wanted to keep me away from you and I just... I had to...”

 

“Infringe on his territory,” Mike finished. There was a part of the story Jonathan was keeping from him, and whatever that part was, it was personal. He knew what this was about now. It was about taking _anything_ that belonged to Harvey, whether it was his money or something else. In a really unexpected and peculiar way, Mike sort of... liked that. He liked the idea of being _taken_ from Harvey because it meant that he still _belonged_ to Harvey. That was how it used to be.

 

“Can’t help myself.”

 

“I need another.” Mike held out his glass.

 

“Whatever you want.” Jonathan’s voice was warm and soft. He refilled Mike’s drink, a little taller this time, and leaned against the counter, watching him.

 

Mike swished the alcohol around in his glass. “Why should I take your word on this?” He could do this thing if he had to. It wasn’t the end of the world and it probably wouldn’t even take very long. He’d been physical with people he didn’t like much before, out of boredom or drunkenness. It was tolerable. Unfortunately, it wasn’t an agreement they could put in writing and he didn’t trust this person. Harvey warned that he was dealing with a leech and a con artist, and of course he had more faith in Harvey’s word than in Jonathan’s.

 

“If you really want to show me a nice time today then I’ll call the whole thing off with your boss. Honest. After all, money can’t buy happiness.” Every word he spoke sounded void and rehearsed. When Mike didn’t give him any signs of confidence he shrugged and reached into his pocket. “I can get my lawyer on the phone right now. This is a fantastic deal, in case you didn’t realize it.” He pulled out his cell phone, fingers poised. “You’re lucky that I like you. In or out?”

 

“In.” Mike spoke quickly and pressed the glass to his lips before he could think twice or take it back. When he looked up again, swallowing slowly, Jonathan was smiling with his phone pressed to his ear.

 

“Roy. Hi... Oh, it’s fantastic. You know I love this city, I miss it so much. And despite what they say, the people here are so friendly and accommodating.” He looked at Mike. “Mhm... You know, I decided against it after all. Yeah. What can I say? I’m rebranding anyway and there’s no sense in kicking up dust. I’d rather just concentrate on moving ahead.” He paused. “Because that’s just the kind of person I am, Roy. You know me. And you’re the one who told me not to do it in the first place. Look, would you mind speaking with Specter’s associate? He’s here with me and I’m sure he’d like your verification.” Jonathan paused before extending the phone towards Mike, but he could hear that there was another person on the line which was all he really needed to know, so he held up a hand in objection. The situation was a little too strange and embarrassing too acknowledge to an outside party, now that they had agreed on the terms. Jonathan returned the phone to his ear. “Nevermind. Just let me put it on record that I’m dropping the issue entirely. That’s right. Sure, you can tell him. But don’t mention the associate, I’d rather let Harvey think he scared me off by himself. He works so hard.” Jonathan stepped up next to Mike with the bottle, filling his glass to the brim this time. Then, as if he’d done it a hundred times before, Jonathan casually moved his arm around Mike’s waist, pressing the bottle to the small of his back. “I’ll be back on Sunday. Love you, too.” He ended the call, put the phone on the countertop and pulled Mike closer to him.

 

“Jesus, that was your lawyer?” Mike backed out of the embrace closing in around him, the hard bottle sliding against his hip bone as he dislodged himself from Jonathan’s grasp. He didn’t mean to move away, it was just instinct.

 

Jonathan laughed and raked his impossibly white teeth over his lower lip. “I have a thing for lawyers.”

 

“No kidding.”

 

“Stop being so nervous.” He put the bottle down on the counter.

 

“This is... weird, for me. I don’t...” He didn’t do any part of it. He was done with going behind Harvey’s back, done with creating situations that would force him to lie, done with fooling around with people who were obviously already taken, and officially he’d never exactly started with men. Not that he was oblivious, but it had never totally worked out before. Homosexuality didn’t bother him, but Jonathan did.

 

Jonathan stepped closer and hooked his thumb into Mike’s belt. “Sure you do.”

 

Mike swallowed hard. His mouth felt dry. “You don’t know what I was going to say.”

 

“It doesn’t matter. You’re about to do it.”

 

“This is seriously, seriously wrong,” Mike breathed. He was finally beginning to feel the full effects of the alcohol though, which helped a little.

 

Jonathan shook his head, untucking Mike’s shirt from his pants. “I had a change of heart, that’s all. The rest is nobody’s business. But if it wasn’t just a _little_ bit wrong, then we both know we wouldn’t enjoy it as much. God, you’re going to be fun, I can feel it...”

 

Maybe it was the alcohol, or the confidence in the strong hands at his waist, or maybe he just needed to be reminded what it felt like to be wanted... but for about half a second, Mike forgot to be disgusted. It was only a moment, but it lingered long enough to bother him. It would probably be easier if he could find a way to enjoy himself, but he didn’t want to give Jonathan the satisfaction of manipulating him that way.

 

“What do you want me to do?” Mike wasn’t sure why his voice came out so quiet.

 

Jonathan began plucking open the buttons of his shirt. “You know.”

 

“I’m not doing anything you don’t tell me to do,” Mike insisted.

 

Jonathan nodded in approval. “So you like being told what do to?”

 

That wasn’t what he meant at all. Mike just wasn’t interested in guessing and he didn’t want to take this further than it had to go. But he knew that Jonathan was hearing what he wanted to hear, so instead of denying it he said nothing.

 

Jonathan loosened Mike’s tie, then shoved him away gently. “Get undressed, over there by the window. I want to see your body. Show me.”

 

There was no more hiding behind discretion. Suddenly, the situation was what it was.

 

Mike slid the strap of his messenger bag over his head and placed it on the countertop, then walked slowly to the large arched window. They were facing a quiet one-way street so he wasn’t nervous about being seen from the outside, but he did suddenly feel somewhat self-conscious in front of Jonathan in the unforgiving natural light. He wasn’t exactly tan and he didn’t exactly work out, but he knew he was alright. Good enough for the average person, but for someone who made their living on body image? He was under a little bit of pressure. At the same time, Mike understood that this was more of a mind-fuck than anything else.

 

Mike lifted his tie over his head, shrugged off his shirt and jacket, then lifted his undershirt over his head, feeling more naked than he could remember ever having felt before. He tossed the clothes to a nearby chair and began flipping open his belt buckle.

 

“Hold on.”

 

Mike turned from the window and looked up at Jonathan who was half-settling onto the arm of the sofa with the bottle of whisky in his hand.

 

“I want to see you when you’re hard. Not soft.”

 

Mike felt his soul shrink. “I don’t know if I can.” The truth was he kind of hoped that he wouldn’t be able to. His fingers hung there on his belt buckle, waiting for guidance.

 

Jonathan looked him up and down very slowly, as if he were evaluating every freckle. “I really like this.” His eyes found Mike’s again and he extended his arm. “This is good. Come here, let me touch.”

 

Mike took a few steps towards Jonathan, releasing the breath that he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He stopped when Jonathan’s extended finger tips made contact with his firm abdomen. Those fingers trailed down to his belt, curving in and down along his skin to his pelvis before he pulled him in a step closer.

 

“You’re young,” Jonathan observed. “What age?”

 

Mike probably wasn’t as young as Jonathan thought he was or maybe wanted him to be, so he kept it loose. “I’m in my 20’s”. He was about to turn 30.

 

“Mm.” Jonathan sucked in his lower lip and pulled Mike in a little closer. “You are well worth the trip.”

 

Mike didn’t expect the approval to put him at ease, but it did. “They don’t have guys my age in Miami?”

 

Jonathan smiled at his attempt to lighten the mood, but didn’t answer the rhetorical question, posing his own instead: “Do you have a girlfriend?” He handed Mike the bottle and set to work on his belt, slowly unfastening it. His breath tickled Mike’s chest.

 

“No.” He hadn’t spoken to Rachel once since the incident in the file room. After he gutted himself for her there was nothing left to say. After two more wordless encounters with the paralegal before and after work the following day, he hadn’t been with anyone else, nor had he even considered it.

 

“Boyfriend?” He slid the belt from Mike’s waist and dropped it to the floor.

 

“I don’t do that.” The last guy he’d fooled around with had been Trevor, who was never anything remotely like his boyfriend. It happened occasionally – nothing heavy, never all the way – but they never spoke of it. The one time Mike brought it up when they were sober, Trevor denied it entirely and that was around the time it stopped altogether. Then along came Jenny and they never went back, probably for the best.

 

“Maybe not all the time, but I see you, Mike. I know you. I can tell.” Jonathan’s fingers spread open across Mike’s lower back and brought him even closer. “Please don’t be nervous,” he said gently, his lips brushing Mike’s skin when he looked up. “You and Harvey?”

 

“What?” Mike laughed anxiously and immediately regretted how much his nervous response may have already given away. “No. No.” And once more for good measure: “No.”

 

Jonathan smiled. “I’ll take that as a maybe.”

 

“You’re crazy. You’re wrong. I already told you.” Mike was burning up. He’d spent a lot of time thinking about it but never said a word to anyone. He didn’t appreciate his most private thoughts being dragged out into the open by a person he’d only met a couple of hours ago. It was difficult to leave Harvey out of this when he was the reason this whole mess was happening. Not that Mike was blaming him.

 

“He’s very protective of you,” Jonathan pointed out. “And I can see why. Turn around.”

 

Mike turned to face the window, wishing he could numb himself to the body that stood and pressed against his back. Two arms wrapped around him, pulling him in tight. He had to admit that Jonathan’s cologne smelled really good.

 

“I bet he’s crazy about you,” Jonathan breathed against Mike’s neck. It was cold and difficult not to turn away from. A hand snuck down his belly to his pants where he popped the button open.

 

“You’re way off,” Mike said sternly, trying to hold his voice steady against the strong hand rubbing him through his pants. “He wants to fire me. I’m only here to protect myself.” It was almost entirely a lie because they both knew he couldn’t take credit for whatever would come of this. Mike closed his eyes, trying not to push his hips towards that encouraging hand.

 

“It’s alright,” Jonathan assured him with a squeeze. “Your secret’s safe with me. Glad to help.”

 

Mike bit his tongue, angry with himself for the erection that he couldn’t control and couldn’t explain. He didn’t want Jonathan to think that he was enjoying this, because he wasn’t, and the fact that he was physically aroused made him even more appalled by the situation. He would never admit that he was there only for Harvey and not for himself, but if he wasn't doing it all for Harvey it never would have gone this far.

 

“You’re perfect,” Jonathan whispered in his ear, working open Mike’s fly with practiced fingers. “You’re like a gift.”

 

“I’m not a gift. I’m not free,” Mike protested. The cold hand sliding into his underwear made him shiver, his kneecaps turning to ice and threatening to shatter at any moment. Even the tongue that painted a little circle on the skin behind his ear felt unnaturally cool, and it took everything in his power to stand still and let it happen. This was getting more real by the second.

 

“Of _course_ not, Mikey,” Jonathan patronized. “You’re costing me lots and lots and lots of money.” His fingers tightened around Mike’s cock, almost painfully, making his whole body stiffen and his teeth clench. “I’d really like to believe that you’re worth it.”

 

“Me too,” Mike mumbled through terse lips, vaguely wondering how much Jonathan really expected to be able to squeeze out of Harvey’s bank account. He wanted to do as little as he could get away with, but the deal had been made. Mike had to hold his end up and make an effort, and regardless of the circumstances he really didn’t want to be a bad lay.

 

“This is the last time I’m going to ask you to relax,” Jonathan said once more, stroking his cheek with one hand and his cock with the other.

 

“Just do whatever you want. Get it over with so I can go.” Mike didn’t mean to think out loud but the alcohol was deteriorating his filter. He hoped he hadn’t insulted the man. “Give me another drink.” He wanted to drown out the protests and warnings blaring at the top of his mind.

 

The body behind him moved away and the hand in his pants disappeared. He closed his fingers around the bottle when he felt it touch his palm and glanced back to see Jonathan strolling across the apartment.

 

“Drink up,” he called over his shoulder. “Don’t go anywhere...”

 

Jonathan disappeared into another room, which had to be either the bathroom or the bedroom. If there was a time to bolt and forget this ever happened, it was right then. Instead, Mike took a few deep swigs from the bottle despite his churning stomach, trying not to cough at the burn, and set it down on the coffee table with a clumsy thud. His nerves felt thick, numb and ready. It took a little more effort than usual to lift his eyelids after blinking them. He was caring less and less by the second, which was right where he needed to be.

 

Mike was gazing lazily at a few pigeons outside the window when he heard Jonathan come back into the room. He turned just in time to see the man toss a little pill into his mouth. Mike didn’t like pills... didn’t trust them. Best case scenario, it was just Viagra. Jonathan sat himself on the couch again and placed a condom and a tube of lubricant on the table next to the whisky.

 

Mike’s stomach turned but he didn’t say anything, though Jonathan seemed to detect his discomfort.

 

“Don’t tell me you have a latex allergy,” Jonathan droned.

 

Mike shook his head.

“Pants off,” Jonathan instructed with a swish of his finger, making himself comfortable with an arm draped across the back of the couch.

 

Mike’s pants were already hanging loose and open at his hips, so he simply pushed them down. He was a little embarrassed by the bulge in his briefs even though he knew he didn’t need to be. This was what Jonathan wanted. So far he was handling it alright.

 

Jonathan grinned and leaned forward to pass Mike the bottle again, freeing his hands to grab at the waistband of Mike’s underwear. Mike put the bottle to his lips, stumbling forward a few paces as Jonathan pulled him closer.  He tipped his head back as he felt Jonathan’s fingers glide down his thighs with his briefs. He drank deeply, his teeth clashing against the glass at the sensation of a long, cool breath grazing his exposed, sensitive flesh. When he detached his lips from the bottle with a sputtering cough, he still couldn’t bear to look down.

 

“When’s the last time someone sucked your pretty cock?”

 

Mike didn’t know how he felt about his cock being called “pretty”. He shook his head, looking anywhere but down. “A while ago. I dunno.” It had been Tess, a little more than a month earlier, but he didn’t want to talk about it. “Do whatever you want,” Mike repeated, toeing off his shoes and underwear. The lube told him he wasn’t going to be lucky enough to get out of there with nothing more than a blowjob.

 

“You keep saying that,” said Jonathan, his hands closing around Mike’s hip bones. “But I don’t think you mean it. You said yourself that you don’t know what I want.”

 

“Try me. I don’t care.” _Fuck_. He didn’t want to test this stranger. That’s when he realized it was a good time to get rid of the drink, so he set the bottle down on the table one more time with a heavy clunk. The stuff was more than half gone and he began to wonder if maybe a little shyness would serve him better than his bolder impulses.

 

“Okay,” Jonathan agreed. “Fine. Take my dick out and sit on it.”

 

Mike swallowed. “Fine,” he echoed. His throat was dry despite the liquid courage he’d been swallowing. Taking Jonathan’s dick out of his pants was something he could probably do, but it was the “sit on it” part that posed a greater challenge. He felt he was up for it, but that’s the way he felt the last time he gave it a shot and it hadn’t really worked out in the past.

 

Mike felt his knees make contact with the hardwood floor as he dropped and reached forward to undo Jonathan’s jeans, sliding the zipper down with a quick _whir_. Before he could slip his reluctant hand into Jonathan’s underwear he felt strong fingers clamping around his jaw, tipping his head up into an unexpected, shallow kiss. He was grateful for the anonymous, antiseptic flavour of alcohol in both their mouths, but the tongue that began poking between his lips was nauseatingly intrusive. The stiff fingers digging into Mike’s cheeks pulled him away from the kiss but kept him close.

 

“Wanna get fucked today?”

 

 “Sure.” It was the answer Jonathan wanted and it was going to happen either way, and he didn’t want to drag this out any longer than necessary.

 

Dropping his hand a few inches to Mike’s throat, Jonathan pulled him to his feet again and led him around behind the couch. Just when Mike was about to pry the too-tight fingers from his neck, Jonathan released his grip and shoved him against the back of the couch, knocking his legs open with his knee. Mike winced as a hand ruffled his hair, but let it happen when that hand pushed his face down towards the couch, bending him right over the furniture. He braced his hands on the seat cushions as Jonathan’s fingers roamed all over his shoulders, back, thighs and ass. The friction of skin-on-skin seemed to warm the unwelcome touch a little.

 

“Blondes really do have the cutest little assholes,” he remarked. Mike tried not to flinch at the thumbs sliding between his ass cheeks, prying them apart. “Don’t move.”

 

As Mike waited, slumped over the couch, he listened to Jonathan take a few steps around to the coffee table where he began to undress. Mike didn’t bother denying the reasonable curiosity for a naked body and tipped his head up a little to see. Piece by piece Jonathan stripped his clothes away, very aware of Mike’s eyes on him, revealing a hard, toned and almost entirely hairless body with an even tan covering every inch of skin. It wasn’t normal. If nothing else, at least he looked... clean. His musculature was an undeniable threat, but Mike wasn’t as bothered by the bulky arms and washboard abs as he wanted to be. Jonathan smirked as he lowered his underwear, and Mike’s nerves finally kicked in. The guy was bigger than he expected.

 

“The fuck am I supposed to do with that?” Mike wondered out loud.

 

“Whatever I want.” Jonathan wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked himself a little, getting harder, then collected the lube and condom.

 

No, he didn’t want it. Mike pushed himself upright again, not particularly believing he was physically equipped (even if he wanted to be a good sport and try) but Jonathan quickly moved in on him and stuffed his face into the couch again. In a way, Mike didn’t mind it so much. With half of him draped over the front and the rest of him propped up behind, he felt like he was only half there.

 

“I told you not to move,” Jonathan reminded him, running a hand down his spine. “That sweet ass is so tempting I don’t think I’ve got it in me to wine and dine you first.”

 

Mike had no idea what Jonathan’s idea of _wining-and-dining_ was and he supposed he wasn’t going to find out. “Does that mean I’m not getting my dick sucked?”

 

“Next time,” Jonathan promised. “If I don’t fuck you _right now_ , I’m gonna...” Jonathan didn’t finish that thought, too transfixed on the body in front of him, squeezing and fondling Mike all over like a toy. “How do you like it?” Jonathan’s hand travelled lower, between Mike’s thighs, back up across his balls, until his fingers were nudging his ass cheeks apart again. “I bet you like it real hard.”

 

“I... I don’t think so.” Mike was struggling between saying what Jonathan probably wanted to hear and what would keep him from getting hurt. “You said we’d take it slow,” he recalled.

 

“That was before I got a good look at you,” Jonathan said. “You’re the one who wanted to get it over with. Anyway, I just can’t help myself. Look at you. You’re making me crazy.”

 

Mike had been under the impression that they could split the difference between ‘slow’ and ‘real hard’. He heard Jonathan spit and felt it dribble down the cleft of his ass, a thumb spreading the saliva around his hole. Mike’s hips twitched, his thighs inching back together instinctively, but Jonathan kicked his ankles even further apart with his foot.

 

“Don’t be so tense,” Jonathan said as he pushed his saliva-slick thumb fully into Mike’s body.

 

Mike’s throat tightened and strained but no sound came out. He could feel Jonathan invading his body in a way he’d never in his life experienced, and while painless, he understood very suddenly that this was one of those things he would never totally come back from.

 

“You’re so tight.” Jonathan seemed impressed and even a little surprised. “I thought you were one of those Harvard sluts. Cute ass like yours should be getting nailed on a regular basis. How does this feel?” Jonathan twisted his thumb back and forth slowly, pushing as deep as possible. Mike could hear that he was touching himself with his other hand.

 

“Okay,” Mike lied, his voice muffled by the hands he was hiding his face in. How did it feel? It made him want to crawl out of his skin and disappear. More than anything else, it made him sad deep down in a way that he couldn’t explain. He didn’t belong to Jonathan. This wasn’t right.

 

“What?”

 

Mike dropped his hands from his face and curled them around the edge of the sofa seat. “I said it feels okay,” he repeated, more clearly this time.

 

Mike cried out when an open hand unexpectedly hit him across the back of his head. It was hard enough to stun him. He froze up.

 

“What?” Jonathan repeated himself sternly. “I didn’t hear you.”

 

“Good. It’s _good!_ ” As soon as Mike corrected himself, the thumb inside him quickly withdrew.

 

“I thought so.” Jonathan pat him on the ass, then moved his hand between Mike’s hips and the couch, working his fingers around Mike’s semi-erect cock. His other hand flattened out between Mike’s shoulder blades, holding him down. He was as strong as he looked.

 

Once Mike was fully erect, only seeming to get harder every time he reminded himself that what they were doing was wrong, both of Jonathan’s hands left him with only the man’s hips pinning him in place. With his face pressed against his arm, Mike heard the tear of foil and a few moments later the pop of a lid... and he wasn’t sure if he could do this. The cool gel that Jonathan smeared all over his ass made him shiver. He must have emptied half the bottle. Mike wasn’t ready when the tip of the man’s bloated cock pressed against him and the second he began to push forward the immediate sting told him that this was going to be worse than he’d anticipated. Mike involuntarily lurched forward, away from the shattering sting, but Jonathan’s demanding fingers clamped around his hip bone and pulled him back.

 

“Be nice,” Jonathan instructed with a quiet sigh. “Nice and sweet..." His bulky arm crept around Mike’s waist as he slid all the way in, humming in satisfaction.

 

Even with the excess of lube to reduce the friction, every muscle in his body fought against it. Mike tried to hold his tongue and did his best to transform an _“ow”_ into a broken _“oh”_. It _hurt_. It hurt worse than he remembered the one time he’d tried to go for it, years ago, but he wasn’t going to back out now. He’d already spun this far into absurdity and he could tough it out. Even through a clenched jaw and tight lips, he could barely conceal a cry, suppressing it to a rough groan. This was a kind of pain and intrusion he’d had no practice coping with before. His hand flew back to push at Jonathan’s solid thigh, to get some distance between them, without even meaning to. His body’s instincts were stronger than his will.

 

“Let’s make this easy,” Jonathan coaxed, wrapping his strong fingers around Mike’s wrist, pressing it to the small of his back. “You be still, or I will make you be still. Your choice.”

 

Mike took a couple of steady breaths and nodded, worried about what might come out of his mouth if he opened it. But as soon as Jonathan withdrew and started laying into him again, fucking him without restraint, the dry, cracked sobs began rattling out of him no matter how hard he tried to swallow them down. He could barely get a lung-full of air before he choked it back out again.

 

“Shut up. You love it.” Jonathan yanked Mike’s arm back further. “Tell me you love it.”

 

Mike opened his mouth but he couldn’t do it. All he could do was bare his teeth wordlessly and squeeze his eyes shut as the man behind him twisted his shoulder and shred his insides apart with deep, persistent thrusts. He tried to speak but the nausea swimming in guts told him that the next thing to pass his lips might be vomit.

 

“Hey! I’m talking to you!” Jonathan yanked at his arm, like he was trying to shake an answer out of him.

 

“I love it,” Mike croaked, not even recognizing his own distorted voice.

 

“Goddamn right you do. Your tight little ass was starving for this.” Jonathan pulled out slowly, nearly all the way. “God, I wish you could see what I see... fucking beautiful, kid... I wanna rip you to pieces.”

 

When he pushed back in he grabbed onto Mike’s hips with both hands and rode him even harder and there was nothing Mike could do to contain his shouts. And he tried... he really did. With every thrust the legs of the sofa creaked against the floor as Mike’s thighs slammed against it, the whole piece of furniture thumping forward. Mike’s toes slid against the floor, trying to get some traction. When the couch bumped against the coffee table, Mike swung his arm out and grasped for the bottle of whisky which was just within reach of his lucky fingers. He couldn’t take much more of this. The pain and the sheer violation were like nothing he’d ever felt before and he simply wasn’t equipped to process it. His fingers latched onto the neck of the bottle and he arched his back, tipping his head up to swallow more of the poison his body was craving to shut itself down. He needed an off switch.

 

Mike had barely swallowed before he felt the bottle tugged from his lips, out of his grasp. The next thing he knew, liquid was splashing across his head, neck and back, trickling down from his hair over his face, into his eyes and the corners of his mouth as Jonathan emptied the bottle all over him. He gasped and panted, attempting to wipe the alcohol from his eyes. It burned like hell and nearly blinded him. The whisky streamed down across his back and he quickly but reluctantly folded himself forward again, pushing his ass higher into the air. The last thing he needed was even so much as a drop of alcohol on the broken skin between his legs to flare that sting. 

 

Blind and defenseless, Mike pushed his face into his hands again, held his breath, and willed it to end quickly. He couldn’t bring himself to admit his mistake by telling Jonathan to stop (as if he actually would), so he tried to bargain instead.

 

“Lemme suck your cock,” Mike offered with a pant when he couldn’t hold his breath any longer. “You can... come in my mouth.” He knew his lips were willing to be pried apart, and the muscles in his jaw had had plenty of practice, though he wasn’t sure how authentic his request sounded. He just wanted it to stop hurting.

 

“I’d love to fuck your throat, Mike,” Jonathan ensured him enthusiastically, twisting his offer just a little. “But then I couldn’t hear you say the things I like to hear.” He slowed his thrusts a little, allowing Mike to catch his breath so he could speak.

 

“What... what things?” It was a struggle to get the words out and required a good deal of concentration to empty his voice without emptying his stomach along with it.

 

“Whose dick is the biggest you’ve ever had?” Jonathan slowed to a stop but the pain inside Mike’s body continued. The stillness actually made him even _more_ aware of the muscles violently fighting the unwanted penetration.

 

“You’re the biggest,” Mike said. It was a fact and not a compliment, but he hoped that his honesty would be appreciated.

 

“I know.”

 

Jonathan withdrew and Mike’s thighs shuddered in response, the muscles inside him spasming and clamping down over and over. He pushed himself upright, taking a deep breath, finally allowing his chest to expand fully, but his legs were weak and he was so lightheaded that he couldn’t stop the floor from coming at him. A hand on his arm guided him down onto his stomach, cheekbone grinding against the floor and legs splayed uselessly behind him. Almost immediately, he felt strong hands on his hips, pulling them up into the air until his knees clashed against the floor again.

 

“You’re not hard.”

 

Mike vaguely noticed the hand groping at his hopelessly flaccid cock. He preferred the guilt of an erection to the embarrassment of not having one.

 

“You drank too much,” suggested Jonathan.

 

“I’m hurt,” Mike admitted softly. He’d never had much trouble getting it up when he’d been drinking. “This hurts me.” He felt like he was talking to a psychotic child.

 

“I’ll make you feel better,” Jonathan assured him, tugging obnoxiously at his unresponsive flesh.

 

Mike assumed that by "feel better" he meant to achieve an erection again but he was too dizzy. It took everything he had just to keep his knees planted. “So make me feel better,” he heard himself agreeing out of desperation. If there was a way to enjoy this, he was open to ideas.

 

He felt the man move behind him, straddling his calves, his heavy cock throbbing against his ass but not penetrating. Mike wanted to curl in on himself and hide, but he knew that hiding would only prolong the ordeal.

 

“Say his name.”

 

Mike was a little confused by the phrasing but he did the best he could. “Jonathan,” he offered simply, with little enthusiasm.

 

Jonathan laughed softly as he continued toying with the soft flesh in his fingers. “Say his name,” he repeated. “Not mine.”

 

Mike couldn’t understand.

 

“It’ll make you feel better,” Jonathan promised, leaning over him and pressing an oddly tender kiss to the back of his shoulder. “I know it will. Do what I tell you.”

 

Mike shook his head dumbly. “Who?” He could speak more easily now, but his head was spinning against the floor where his cheek was pressed. He knew the pain would be worse if he was sober, but wondered if he would have been so reckless with his body had he not been drinking. It didn’t matter now. Nothing did. He was officially at his lowest.

 

“Just say it.” Jonathan moved his lips a little higher, to the back of Mike’s neck. The tip of his cock was still pressed eagerly against his hole, and the tip of his tongue ticking Mike’s hairline.

 

Maybe it was because he was drunk, but Mike was at a total loss. He could barely remember why he was there. It all felt so much like a nightmare, suffocating in a heavy, ambiguous sense of dread that some unnamed force kept him from running from. He told himself that this was an ultimately simple solution to what seemed to be a complicated and costly problem. Maybe in a few years he could laugh about how foolish he had been... but not with Harvey.

 

“Don’t play dumb,” Jonathan coaxed. “Tell me his name. Say it and I’ll fuck you nice and sweet like he does.”

 

“I told you, he _doesn’t_ ,” Mike bit defensively, angrily, not knowing why Jonathan seemed so fixated on the idea that he and Harvey were sleeping together but not caring because it was none of his business, even though there was nothing. He tried to flip himself around, to look him in the eye and set the record straight, but an arm around his waist caught him and held him tight.

 

“Say his name and I’ll fuck you like he fucks,” Jonathan promised. “Say _my_ name and I’ll fuck you like I fuck.” Cropped fingernails dug deep into the flesh below his neck and dragged all the way down his back, mercilessly, causing Mike to suck in a hard breath and tremble against the pain. “Ignore me – say nothing – and I swear to god I’ll make you scream so hard—“

 

“ _Harvey._ ” Mike reluctantly ground his name out between his teeth, purely out of intimidation.

 

Harvey wouldn’t hurt him like this. Mike would hurt himself for Harvey, but that wasn’t the same thing because Harvey would never ask him to do it. On many occasions he’d fantasized about sleeping with the man, but at that moment his most powerful and erotic fantasy was an embrace, pure and simple.

 

“Again.” The hand slid across the small of his back, damp with alcohol and cold sweat.

 

“Harvey.”

 

“Again.”

 

Mike’s nostril’s flared and his throat tightened. “ _Harvey_ ,” he blurted once more.

 

“What about him?” The hand at his back disappeared and Mike felt Jonathan guiding himself inside again, pressing firmly but carefully until he had just barely penetrated him. Then he stopped. “What about Harvey.”

 

“He’s...” Mike sniffed and braced his fists against the floor. It felt impossible to speak while he was being opened up. “There’s nothing. Between us. He doesn’t even. Look. At me.”

 

“But I saw how he looks at you. He thinks he owns you, Mike. He thinks you’re at his disposal.” Jonathan pushed deeper and Mike couldn’t hold down a whimper. “Harvey just wants to use you. That’s all. You’re his whore. He bought you.” He slid deeper, slowly, all the way, holding Mike’s hips in place. “He pays you lots of money so he can abuse you. That’s all. And when you’re all used up... so easy to throw away. I see it happen all the time.”

 

“No.” It was different with him and Harvey. Their situation was unique, it didn’t happen all the time. Mike blinked furiously against the tears streaming from his eyes, falling from the tip of his nose and pooling on the floor. He really did feel like garbage. He couldn’t believe he’d been stupid enough to tell Jonathan that Harvey had tried to fire him. Maybe Harvey hadn’t found a replacement yet because nobody was willing to sink as low for him as Mike had been.

 

“I think you’re so sexy,” Jonathan whispered, cupping his balls gently. “Say his name again.”

 

“Harvey.” Mike thought he still belonged to Harvey. He thought that’s why Jonathan was interested in taking him. But if he didn’t – if Jonathan wasn’t stealing from Harvey by fucking Mike – then what was the man getting out of all this? “I don’t understand...” Mike was half-conscious. He couldn’t choose his words. He could only let them go. “Who the fuck do I belong to?”

 

“Me. Say it...”

 

“Harvey.”

 

“That’s right.”

 

Mike sucked in a deep, shuddering breath as the man behind him began moving again, manipulating his cock with his fingers as he thrust in and out, shallow and deliberate. There was something repulsive about his bruised kneecaps grinding against the floor and the wet, sloppy noise of his over-lubed ass getting pumped, but at least with Jonathan behind him he didn’t have to see who he was really with. All he could see was the blurry hardwood an inch from his nose, and the hazy fantasies behind his eyelids when he closed them. In spite of his disgust, Mike felt his cock twitch in the other man’s palm.

 

“Good.” The voice was rough but encouraging. “That’s real good... you’re a goddamn precious commodity, you know. You’re doing great, Mike. I wish I could keep you.”

 

Maybe it wasn’t so bad being used. He hadn’t felt useful in a long time.

 

Suddenly the circuit breaker in Mike’s nervous system shorted out, and all the feeling drained away. A faint tingle hummed under his skin as everything he had in him dissipated, leaving him dark and cool inside. Mike didn’t know if he’d done it by sheer will or if perhaps he should be worried about his physiological well-being, but he honestly didn’t care. He felt now like what he was: a machine. He was there to help. This had nothing to do with him. He was a facilitator, like Jonathan said.

 

For the first time since the man touched him, he pressed back into the other body. This was his job. It was something tangible and simple. If he could do nothing else in his pathetic life, he could fuck.

 

It was around then that Mike blacked out.

 

= = =

 

When he opened his eyes he was still on the floor, on his stomach. He blinked, taking calm, deep breaths as he gave himself a chance to think and adjust and recall where he was. He’d passed out before, but never for more than a few seconds. Something immediately told him that this was different.

 

Suddenly he became alert to the sound of running water in another room and he realized there was nobody with him. Slowly, carefully, he pushed himself to his knees and looked around the room through bleary eyes. He saw the empty whisky bottle on the ground, clothes strewn about, the open bottle of lube laying on its side leaking clear jelly into a pool of alcohol. To an outside eye, it probably looked like someone had been having fun. And someone had been. It just wasn’t Mike. He was throbbing and aching from his scalp to his toenails, inside and out. But it was okay, because it was done. He did it. He followed through.

 

Mike reluctantly slid a shaky hand between his thighs and touched his wet, swollen anus. His body felt so unfamiliar to his own touch, it scared him a little. He sighed and forced himself to look at his fingers, not surprised by the pale red smears he saw. Mike felt something wet on his face and wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. This time, it did surprise him when he saw blood. Looking past the blood on the back of his hand to the hardwood, Mike saw a red mark smeared on the floor where his head had been and had no idea how it got there. He must have hit his head somehow. That must have been what knocked him out.

 

The sound of running water stopped.

 

Mike pushed himself to his feet but his head felt heavy and he nearly toppled, reaching for the couch to catch his balance. He wondered if he could get dressed and get out without having to see Jonathan again, but that thought came too late. Jonathan reappeared, clean and damp, just out of the shower. He was still completely naked.

 

Mike wanted to walk in the opposite direction when Jonathan approached but he was still thinking and moving too slowly.

 

“Get in the shower.” Jonathan took Mike by the arm and peeled him away from the couch, ushering him towards the bathroom.

 

Within a minute, Mike was under the warm water. He sluggishly went through the motions of washing himself until the water ran clear between his feet and he could no longer smell whisky or Jonathan’s cologne or sweat. He closed his eyes and cleared his mind, letting the sound of water pounding the floor of the shower drown out all his thoughts until he’d almost convinced himself he was at home.

 

The clink of the curtain rings signalled Jonathan’s presence, and the water stopped. Mike felt a soft towel on his shoulders and tugged it more tightly around his body. He let a pair of sure, guiding hands lead him out of the shower and didn’t open his eyes until he felt those hands on his face.

 

Jonathan had dressed himself in a fresh outfit while Mike was in the shower, which had only felt like seconds but could have been as long as an hour. Although the other man must have achieved the sexual satisfaction he’d been looking for – if it was about that for him at all – his eyes still held a predatory gaze, fixing on Mike’s. He stroked his damp hair firmly, without any tenderness, then slid his hand behind Mike’s head to pull him in for a kiss.

 

Mike let him do it, leaning into him for balance. Jonathan was aggressive with his tongue and teeth, first sucking on his lower lip, then biting down and tugging much too hard. With his arms wrapped up in the safety of the towel, Mike whined in protest and turned his head away.

 

“We’re done now,” Mike whispered, tasting blood on his lip.

 

“You agreed to give me three hours.”

 

Mike looked the man in the eye, astonished by his attention to detail. He couldn’t possibly expect him to stay a moment longer.

 

But then Jonathan glanced at his watch and hummed in disappointment. “Look at that. You’re right. Our time’s up. You better get dressed.”

 

Mike followed Jonathan back into the living room and began to gather his clothes.

 

“Don’t worry about cleaning up,” Jonathan told him, waving his hand towards the booze-splattered couch.

 

Mike didn’t give a shit about anything but going home, but a part of him still wanted to point out that Jonathan was the one who made the mess in the first place. He dropped the towel on the floor and slid on his underwear. His head was spinning and he nearly put his pants on inside out. It was taking far longer to get dressed than he wanted it to, and he could feel Jonathan watching his every clumsy move.

 

“Well I sure had a nice time. Thanks for coming over, Mike.”

 

“Okay.” Mike frantically did up the buttons on his shirt. He turned away from Jonathan, but the man walked around and into his eyeline again.

 

“I want you to know that I really won’t mention anything about this to Harvey.”

 

“Me either,” said Mike, buckling his belt. Not that it made any difference to Jonathan whether or not Harvey knew about this.

 

“It’s better for you that way,” Jonathan agreed. He picked up a shoe and handed it to Mike. “But if you do tell him, make sure you save it for when you _really_ want to hurt the bastard.”

 

“The only person this can hurt is me.” Mike shook his head and pulled on his shoe, lacing it as quickly as possible. He didn’t see his socks anywhere and wasn’t going to waste any time looking for them right now.

 

“I’m sorry you see it that way.”

 

There was no other way to see it. Mike sat down on a dry patch of the couch and wrestled his other shoe on.

 

“It’s just sad, I think...”

 

Mike looked up reluctantly.

 

Jonathan continued once he had Mike’s attention. “It’s sad that nothing will change for you. You can’t take credit for helping him, and even if you could, he’d hate you for it. Harvey hasn’t changed one bit, I know what kind of a man he is. He walks on other people to make himself taller. Always has, always will. That’s not the kind of person I am, Mike.”

 

“What kind of person are you?” Mike was certain there wasn’t a shred of humanity in him. “You enjoy hurting people.”

 

“You _let_ me hurt you. I wasn’t expecting that... and as a matter of fact, I find it a little disturbing.”

 

“Fuck you, this was your idea.”

 

“No, it was _your_ idea. Remember?”

 

Mike pushed himself off the couch, slung his jacket over his arm stumbled towards the kitchen to find his bag.

 

“You’re a poor judge of character, Mike, but I like you. And I’m sorry about the, uh...”

 

Mike found his messenger bag on the counter where he left it and slung the strap over his shoulder. When he looked up at Jonathan he was gesturing to Mike’s forehead. He could now feel a very precise ache and already a lump was forming over his skull. He touched his fingers to his head and they came away with blood once more. He quickly went to the sink and rinsed the red away.

 

“That was an accident,” Jonathan confessed, and it sounded truthful. “I’m worried about that bump, maybe you should stay here a little longer.” And that’s where Mike saw Jonathan’s motivation to rough him up. “I can’t throw you out on the streets of Soho like this. You’re bleeding. And you’re not going back to the office drunk, are you?”

 

Mike caught himself shaking his head before he vaguely remembered neglecting to tell Jonathan that he’d been dismissed for the day. “I gotta go,” he settled. Maybe home, maybe to the walk-in clinic. It didn’t matter. He just needed to leave. Mike turned and made for the door.

 

“Don’t forget your phone.”

 

When he turned to see Jonathan standing there with his cell phone in hand and a smirk on his face, Mike was dizzy with anger. “Why do you have that?” There was terror somewhere beneath the ache and daze. 

 

“It was on the floor, must have fallen out of your pocket. Six missed calls.” He extended his arm and Mike snatched the phone.

 

“Oh shit.” Through bleary eyes Mike could see Harvey’s name on the screen.  “Your... your person – your lawyer – he called the whole thing off, right? I mean he called Harvey, right? He already did that? Right? That’s what you said. You said he wouldn’t mention me.”

 

“That was the plan.” Jonathan was impossibly calm and cool. “I don’t see any reason for those calls to be about me, if that’s what you’re concerned about. Maybe he’s worried about you. Is it normal to disappear for three-hour lunch breaks?”

 

“Fuck worried, he sent me home.” Mike’s eyes were frozen on Harvey’s name.

 

“Mhm.” Jonathan seemed indifferent to the minor revelation.

 

Harvey hadn’t called him since... Mike couldn’t remember the last time Harvey called his cell phone. He texted him a couple times in the office to demand faster results or leave sparse instructions that would help him to avoid any further contact, but that was it.

 

Mike forced one foot in front of the other, fighting the swelling between his legs, until he found himself fumbling with the doorknob, eyes still on the phone.

 

“I’ll be here until Sunday if you need any company,” Jonathan called.

 

Mike chose not to answer. He swung open the door and let it fall closed behind him as he paced down the hall. He didn’t realize how jittery he was until he tried to walk down the steps. His legs trembled underneath him until he was forced to stop on the landing halfway down to lean against the banister.

 

The phone in his hand vibrated and blinked. Harvey was calling him again.

 

Mike took a few deep breaths and cleared his throat before he answered.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“ _Where are you?_ ” Harvey sounded impatient.

 

Mike’s heart quickened as much as it was capable. “You told me to go home.”

 

_“So why aren’t you there?”_

Mike rubbed his eye with his palm and shifted on his feet. “You’re at my apartment?”

 

_“You didn’t answer my question: where are you?”_

Mike didn’t want to lie but he wasn’t going to say anything stupid. “I’m in Soho.”

 

_“What for?”_

“I’m... I was...” Mike couldn’t help stammering, trying just as hard to wrap his mind around why Harvey gave a shit about his coordinates as he was trying to come up with an answer. He couldn’t tell Harvey why he was there and even though he had the distinct feeling that he was in trouble, he just couldn’t say it.

 

_“Just get back here as soon as possible.”_

 

“I can’t come back to the office right now.” Mike didn’t like saying no to Harvey, but he had very little choice. “I got into a, uh... a bit of an accident.” It was kind of true, but mostly not. He was drunk, he was in pain, psychologically throttled, and emotionally numb. Those were mistakes, not accidents.

 

There was nothing but dead air on the other end for a few seconds before: “ _That bike is a death wish in this city.”_

Mike had a feeling that Harvey was fishing for something. He wasn’t going to make his lack of honesty into a bigger lie than it had to be, so he was silent... until he realized: “My bike is still locked up outside the building.”

 

_“Exactly. I told you to go home, so how come I’m looking at your landspeeder right now?”_

 

Mike breathed a sigh of relief, mainly because he’d decided not to run with a bicycle accident story. Harvey wasn’t at Mike’s apartment in Brooklyn, he was still at work, outside the building. Mike had come to Jonathan’s rental in a cab with him, which is how he was going to get home. There was no way he could have biked back in this condition anyway. Not that he’d had the foresight.

 

_“You’re not lying to me, are you?”_

 

“I don’t feel well. I need to go home now. I’ll explain on Monday.” That should have been enough time to come up with something.

 

A sigh, then nothing. Harvey hung up.

 

Mike exhaled deeply, tipped his head against the wall, and prayed that Harvey would forget all about it over the weekend.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments make the writing machine go faster!


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so ashamed of taking so long to update. Thank you for sticking around since the beginning of the season... I'm so glad you did! Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to comment and give kudos. God knows how long this would have taken to finish without the loving pressure of positive feedback! Big thank you to LittleGirlTree who was my eagle-eyed beta reader once again and gave so much of her time and careful attention to this fic.

Mike’s bicycle was still locked up outside the building when Harvey left around 8:00. Nobody was looking so he discretely checked the lock, then ditched his plans with some old buddies from school who wanted to meet to celebrate something that he had nothing to do with, and went home to be by himself. He watched a couple minutes of boring TV, had a few bites of bad take-out food, read a few pages of an overrated book, but ultimately ended up quietly sitting on his couch turning his cell phone over and over in his hand.

 

There was something wrong with Mike.

 

He wasn’t going to call again ask Mike if he was okay, because that was a question Harvey hated being asked himself. If he wasn’t okay then he was at least good enough, otherwise he wouldn’t have answered his phone... eventually.  And if he said he was fine, then what? Would it make him feel any better hearing it? Probably not, because he wouldn’t believe Mike if he said he was fine. Hearing the word “accident” didn’t throw him _too_ much, but when Mike didn’t come back to work when Harvey asked him to... that’s when he knew that there was something seriously off. He hadn’t asked Mike for much lately. Harvey already had a bad feeling, otherwise he wouldn’t have called in the first place. It had been an unusual day.

 

The problem was that Harvey really _did_ want to know if Mike was okay, even if he had no idea what kind of answer would satisfy him. It was such a bullshit question, but he couldn’t come up with anything better. And just because Harvey may have been somewhat concerned about him, that didn’t mean he’d forgiven him. He didn’t want to give Mike the wrong idea. Harvey just wanted to know what was going on.

 

He texted Donna instead.

 

 _‘Find out if Mike is OK.’_ It felt better to give an instruction than to ask a question. Harvey stared hard at the screen of his phone, waiting for a reply, wishing he could just shake it like a magic 8 ball. Only a few seconds passed before his phone hummed with a response.

 

_‘Define “OK”.’_

 

Harvey rolled his eyes and typed: _‘Forget it.’_ Some people in his life had that ability.

 

When Harvey put his phone down on the coffee table he caught sight of his feet and realized he hadn’t taken his shoes off since he came home. He just couldn’t relax, and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to until he cleared up a few things.

 

Then his phone buzzed again. Donna.

 

_‘Can’t reach Mike.’_

Harvey stood with a defeated sigh.

 

_‘I said forget it.”_

= = =

 

When Harvey’s feet hit the pavement he wasn’t sure where he was going at first, but when he eventually crossed Houston he was faced with two choices: east or west. He didn’t see a cab immediately and Jonathan was only staying about 10 minutes away on foot, so Harvey headed west. He would deal with Mike on Monday. He could absolutely go the weekend without speaking to him. No problem.

 

Harvey managed to zone out as he navigated a few side streets, when his phone buzzed again. Donna.

 

_‘Should I be worried?’_

_‘No.’_ Harvey switched his phone off.

 

Donna didn’t know anything about it, except for whatever details she may have recalled from Jonathan’s brief time as a client. She had no reason to worry, unless for some reason she’d been filling in the blanks on her own. He hadn’t spoken to her directly about his plans for Jonathan so if she had decided to eavesdrop that afternoon, Harvey hoped she knew him well enough by now to know when he was bluffing.

 

Somehow Jonathan seemed to have figured it out as well.

 

Harvey had more practice feigning confidence than insecurity, but he was certain his performance had been convincing because Jonathan had clearly left his office that day believing that a settlement was on the horizon. What had Harvey done to scare him off? He needed more time, more evidence. He needed something on paper. Without the blackmail, he had nothing to pin on Jonathan. They both knew that there was no way that their tiff had any place in court, so it was a settlement or nothing. Why the hell had Jonathan opted for _nothing_ , just as much out of the blue as his visit had been in the first place? It didn’t make sense.

 

Harvey rounded the corner and picked up his pace. He thought the walk might cool him down but he was getting closer to Jonathan’s place and he was feeling anything but cool. He’d been so close to _finally_ nailing the son of a bitch for extortion... and then he lost him. And then Mike had an “accident”, with just as little explanation.

 

He told himself that there was realistically nothing to add up, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something really weird going on, and he wanted to know what it was.

 

Harvey was relieved when he recognized the building Jonathan always stayed in when he was in New York. He was glad he didn’t have to ask Donna to find the address for him. She would have advised against the whole thing, which is why he hadn’t mentioned much to her. Donna would have told him that it would be smarter to _scare_ him away than to _put_ him away, and that’s what he tried to tell himself at first. But Harvey could only be pushed so many times before he pushed back.

 

There was a buzzer at the front door, but no security. He tapped the button for Unit 5 once. No answer. So he pressed his finger to the button again and held it there patiently for about a minute, watching his fingertip go white underneath his nail, until finally he heard the electronic lock on the front door click, granting him access without demanding an explanation.

 

By the time he’d reached Jonathan’s floor, the man was already standing in the doorway expectantly. He didn’t look very happy to see him. Usually he looked happy to see pretty much everyone, being the phony basket case that he was.

 

“I have a guest, is this important?”

 

Harvey looked past Jonathan’s shoulder and saw a kid with dark hair and a lip ring standing a few feet behind, looking curiously back at him. For some reason, and Harvey couldn’t entirely explain why... he felt relieved to see an unfamiliar face.

 

“Perfect,” Harvey thought out loud. “Should I call the cops now, or should I let him do the honours?” The kid was... a kid. 16, _maybe_ 17.

 

“We’re just talking.” Jonathan’s assurance was stern but empty.

 

“That’s what we need to do. Only, I actually mean talk.”

 

“You and I have nothing to talk about.”

 

“We had a settlement to discuss. I assumed that the call I received from your lawyer this afternoon had to be some kind of mistake.” Harvey paused, distracted. “Seriously, is he legal?” Harvey met the boy’s big, tired eyes with his own. “How old are you?”

 

“Eighteen,” the kid responded flatly, barely giving Harvey a chance to get his question out. Then they both glanced down to the beer in his hand. “Twenty-one,” he quickly amended.

 

Harvey looked back at Jonathan and shook his head in disapproval, short of surprised.

 

“It’s none of your business, Harvey. And the settlement is history. You’re welcome. Goodbye.”

 

Jonathan let the door fall shut, but Harvey stopped it with his foot. When the door swung open again, Jonathan looked downright pissed off.

 

“Why is the settlement history?”

 

“I changed my mind,” Jonathan told him. “Don’t tempt me to change it back again.”

 

“What changed your mind?” He needed to be careful not to let Jonathan know that he _did_ want him to change his mind back again. “Or who?” Maybe someone had talked him out of it. Possibly his lawyer. It was no wonder that Jonathan snuck his visit in during a trip that his lawyer wasn’t present for. He was obviously against the whole thing.

 

Jonathan shrugged with a vaguely familiar smirk. “Why does it matter?”

 

 _Because I can’t nail you for extortion unless you try to follow through on the settlement._ “Because I don’t trust you,” Harvey decided, which was true. “You can’t expect me believe you’re really letting this slide, and I don’t want any surprises.” He looked over Jonathan’s shoulder again to the kid inside. “Hey kid, what year were you born?”

 

The kid’s mouth hung open while he tried to do the math in his head.

 

“Don’t try to answer any of his questions, he’s a lawyer,” Jonathan instructed without looking back.

 

The kid exhaled and ran his fingers through his hair.  “I thought he was a cop.”

 

“He likes to think he is.” Jonathan’s eyes never left Harvey’s. “You’re not worth my time, Harvey. It’s as simple as that. And maybe I feel just a little bit sorry for you.”

 

Harvey should have felt reassured by what could have been an honest answer, but he wasn’t. Maybe he was wasting his own time in assuming that the man was capable of rational decision making, but he’d come to the firm so determined to collect a cheque. There was more to this.

 

“You’re an asshole.” Harvey was stooping, but maybe it would get a rise out of him at the very least. He wanted to get him talking.

 

“ _I’m_ an asshole?” Jonathan laughed. “You should be thanking me. I’m doing you a favour.”

 

“You don’t do favours,” Harvey insisted. “And speaking of favours, how much are you paying that kid in there? Does he get extra if he’s late for home room tomorrow morning?”

 

“I favour is a favour, Harvey. I’m not paying for anything that I can get for free.”

 

Harvey was pretty far from convinced. Despite Jonathan’s claim, the kid behind him discretely held up three fingers for Harvey to see.

 

Harvey nodded and waved the kid over to the door. “I’ll give you six, although I can’t guarantee a black eye and a broken wrist, if that was a part of the bargain. Nobody does it quite like this guy.”

 

Jonathan’s jaw tightened as he finally met the younger man’s nervous, evaluating gaze when he stepped up next to him in the doorway.

 

“That’s what we call the Kendall Combo,” Harvey continued. He saw Jonathan splinter around the edges a little and he let himself enjoy the feeling of a minor power shift. It had been a few years since Jonathan had been his client, but the photos that never made it into court were still burned into his memory. “Are you still doing the thing with the pills? That’s classic.”

 

Harvey noticed the kid looking down at the beer in his hand. He must have assumed Harvey was talking about rohypnol. That actually wasn’t Jonathan’s M.O. as far as he knew, but he’d let the kid think it.

 

“Maybe I should uh...” The kid cleared his throat and handed Jonathan the bottle.

 

“You’re not going anywhere,” Jonathan demanded, grabbing his sleeve as he tried to slip out the door into the hallway. “You little shit, I already paid you!”

 

“I changed my mind.” The kid shrugged his am free and stumbled into the hall.

 

“Like hell you did.” Jonathan shot a glare Harvey’s way. “ _He_ changed your mind. We had a deal.”

 

The kid dug into his pocket to pull out a small wad of cash, but Harvey held up a hand to stop him from returning it.

 

“This is my point,” Harvey explained to Jonathan. “People don’t just change their mind when there’s money on the other end of the line waiting for them. Something _makes_ them change their mind.” Harvey pulled out his wallet and sorted through a few bills.

 

Jonathan rolled his eyes and held up his hand in protest. “You can take him for nothing,” he offered in resignation. Not that the younger man was his to give.

 

Harvey dropped his wallet back into his pocket. If there was a reason why Jonathan had walked away from the settlement, it didn’t look like he was going to fess up. Maybe it really was all over before it started. Maybe it was Jonathan’s idea of fun.

 

Harvey looked at the kid, who didn’t seem like he knew exactly what to do with himself. “Wanna come with me?”

 

The kid nodded. “You said six, right?”

 

Harvey returned a small nod and gestured down the hallway. At least he got to spoil Jonathan’s fun for the night, which had to be some kind of accomplishment. After one final glare, Harvey turned and followed the skinny brunet towards the stairs.

 

“Better yet...” Jonathan’s voice echoed down the hall.

 

Harvey shook his head, exhaled, and turned back to Jonathan. He was still standing in the doorframe, this time wearing that disgusting grin he reserved for when he was about to give someone bad news.

 

“I don’t do three-ways,” Harvey jested, before it occurred to him that he shouldn’t have been surprised if the offer were to come out.

 

“Three’s a crowd,” Jonathan agreed. He was still wearing a strange smile but his eyes were stone cold. “So maybe if you take this one off my hands, I could take something off yours. Call it a trade.”

 

Harvey was about to deny keeping an escort on call, but he kept his mouth shut because in this instance he happened to be leaving with one. Jonathan knew he wasn’t that kind of guy anyway, so what the hell was he talking about? Did he want money after all? He’d rejected the refund Harvey had offered on the kid’s behalf. Jonathan Kendall was a world-class expert on wasting time and dicking people around.

 

“What do you want, Kendall?”

 

Jonathan relaxed against the doorframe and crossed his arms. “Nothing you’re not already willing to part with.”

 

“Answer my goddamn question.” As usual, Jonathan was only willing to bite when nobody was fishing.

 

Jonathan licked his lips, savouring his words as he made the decision to speak them. “Word around the water cooler is that you tried to sack your associate.”

 

Harvey’s stomach sank and he felt his face and his palms warm a few degrees. He fucking knew it. He _knew_ Jonathan had his eye on Mike. The second he saw him at the office he’d been fixated, and there was nothing Harvey could do about it. Mike didn’t even seem to be aware he was being watched while Jonathan lurked around Donna’s desk, peering in at him. Harvey loved his office, but there were times when those windows really pissed him off. He supposed it was all about a comforting false impression of transparency at the firm. Sometimes it felt more like a zoo.

 

Harvey watched for a change in Jonathan’s face, anything to give away what he was really getting at, but his expression was fixed as he examined Harvey in just the same way.

 

Harvey didn’t want to ask, but he had to. “Did you talk to Mike Ross?” He just needed a simple “yes” or “no”. Mike hadn’t been taking his calls and wouldn’t come back to the office, and Harvey had to know that it had _nothing_ to do with Jonathan.

 

“That’s the blond one with the cute mouth, right?”

 

“Who did you talk to,” Harvey demanded, striding back down the hall towards the door where Jonathan was comfortably perched. “Did you talk to Mike Ross or not?”

 

“It’s just gossip,” he assured softly, unblinking. “Is it true?” Jonathan raised an eyebrow. He looked so proud of himself. “If it is, I’m sure I could find something else for him. You can’t say I never did anyone a favour.”

 

Harvey had so many questions, but he was beginning to wonder if he really wanted answers to any of them. He swallowed hard, suppressing every impulse to put this piece of shit in his place. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, bunching the lining in his fists, desperate not to lay a finger on Jonathan. He refused show him how much he was getting under his skin.

 

“No,” Harvey lied. “It’s not true. Mike’s with me.” He would have told Jonathan he was wrong about anything, and he wouldn’t admit that a part of him liked the way it felt to say it. He wasn’t going to let himself get nostalgic. Mike technically did still work for him, but they hadn’t really worked _together_ in a while.

 

“I was under the impression that he was _just an associate._ ” Jonathan’s mouth twitched. “I know how the game works. Players are bought and sold every day. I’d be willing to take him off your hands if he’s been a nuisance to you.”

 

“That’s not how a settlement works.” Harvey had the right to get rid of Mike if he wanted to, but nobody had the right to take him away. Even though it was pure fantasy on Jonathan’s part. It was insulting.

 

“Then I guess we have nothing left to discuss.”

 

Sooner or later Harvey was going to find out how Jonathan knew what he did, but he couldn’t push any harder without punching. He wouldn’t give Jonathan the rise he was looking for, which was likely the only reason he’d brought up the associate. He wanted Harvey to know that he knew.

 

Harvey looked back and noticed that the kid had already gone, and wisely so. He wanted to get the hell out of there, too, but not before he made one thing clear: “Don’t ever contact me again.” Harvey met Jonathan’s eyes and breathed deeply, shrinking the man down with his will, bracing his hand against the door and claiming his space. “I don’t know who you talked to, but Mike Ross is off limits. Stay away from him.”

 

= = =

 

“Hey. Hi. I didn’t get your name.”

 

Harvey turned at the voice when he stepped down onto the sidewalk and saw the dark-haired kid briskly walking up to him with a cigarette between his fingers.

 

“Your money,” Harvey noted aloud, pulling his wallet out again. He was starting to grow accustomed to blackmail and wasn’t about to go around giving his name to hookers.

 

“So where to?” The kid watched Harvey’s fingers count the money he’d promised.

 

“I’m going home. You go do whatever it is that you do.” He pulled out six bills, folded them, and handed them over, but the kid only stared at him. “Go ahead, it’s yours.”

 

“Seriously?” The kid took a drag of his cigarette and shifted on his feet, shrugging. “Just give me three I guess.” He rolled his eyes at his own soft bargain.

 

Harvey guessed that the kid hadn’t been doing this very long, but he didn’t need to insist, so he pulled three bills out of the wad. The kid took the money and put it in his pocket as Harvey tucked the rest back into his wallet.

 

“You didn’t have to do that. But thanks,” said the kid, dropping the butt of his cigarette and crushing it with his sneaker. “I mean, I can handle it and whatever, but that guy gave me bad vibes.”

 

“Why’s that?” Harvey had lured the kid out with a better offer more to piss of Jonathan than to get the kid out of a potentially bad situation.

 

“It’s probably nothing...” The kid cleared his throat and fed himself another cigarette from a wrinkled pack.

 

Harvey lit the cigarette for him with expert timing. He didn’t usually carry a lighter but the friends he’d ditched earlier were supposed to be meeting at a cigar lounge. He watched the boy blow a puff of smoke out between his lips and briefly wondered if making him work for his money was such a bad idea. He didn’t like the taste of smoke, but he’d never kissed someone with a lip ring before.

 

“I can tell he’s a control freak. And...” He ground the rubber toe of his sneaker against the concrete. “I found a bloody towel in the bathroom,” the kid admitted, looking a little embarrassed for speculating. “And not like from a bad shave.” He shrugged, brushing it off. “Whatever. I dunno, I thought maybe he was gonna go all Patrick Bateman on my ass. I watch too many movies.”

 

“He’s more of an asshole than a psychopath, but you’re not that far from the truth.” Harvey tried not to think about the kid’s find in the bathroom, but it bothered him. He was probably right, though. It could have been anything. And it was probably nothing. “He should be behind bars,” Harvey thought aloud.

 

The kid nodded and took another drag, seeming content to stand and talk or listen for a little while if Harvey wasn’t going to ask anything else of him. Apparently he had nowhere else he’d prefer to be.

 

“I really am 18, you know,” the kid offered, looking Harvey up and down. “I told Ken Doll I was younger because that’s what he wanted to pay for.”

 

Harvey rolled his eyes. Of course. Another thing that _wasn’t_ going to get Jonathan Kendall locked up.

 

“So... you’re in the clear,” the kid assured him.

 

And so was Kendall. Harvey had to admit that it was tempting, but he didn’t need this. He wanted to say that it wasn’t his thing, and just go home, although... maybe letting off a little steam would do him good. Lots of people did it. He wanted to take his mind off things and hadn’t been with a man in a few months. This guy was a little young for his taste, but maybe that could be fun. Something different. Maybe it was just shaping up to be one of those nights.

 

“What do you do?” Harvey felt a bit weird asking but it came out sounding easy. “Do you kiss?” He was right there, it was his job, and Harvey had already promised him cash to bail on Jonathan. So why not?

 

“I can for you.” He smiled a little and flicked the cigarette to the curb as he stepped up closer and slipped his fingers around Harvey’s lapels. “For the other three bills in your wallet I’ll do pretty much anything as long as it’s safe. If you want something freaky you need to tell me now, though.”

 

Feeling the kid’s nose nudging under his chin as he pressed his body up against Harvey’s, he could admit that he was getting in the mood to fuck. Maybe it was his body’s retaliation against stress. He’d truly had every intention of just taking Jonathan’s toy away and sending him home but maybe it was a good time to try something different. He let his brain quickly roll through the standard excuses and get them out of the way. _He’s just a kid. He wouldn’t be doing this if he wasn’t desperate. You’re taking advantage. You could get sex for free. He’s not your type. It’s not safe. He’ll steal your stuff. He’ll give you a disease. He’ll blackmail you. Blah, blah, blah._

 

“Nothing weird,” Harvey promised, his hand sneaking cautiously around the kid’s waist. He was warm. “Just straight-up, vanilla, Hollywood-style fucking.”

 

“With a cherry-flavoured condom on top.”

 

“My place.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Harvey moved out of the half-embrace he found himself in and waved for the kid to follow him to the corner where they could probably catch a cab. He didn’t have the patience to walk back now. Of all the things he needed to deal with, taking home a hooker should have been the last thing on his list, but if he went home alone he’d start thinking again. About Jonathan. And... everything. Harvey didn’t want to think about everything.

 

They lucked out with a cab and spotted one within a minute. Harvey waved it down and opened the door for the kid.

 

“Are you gonna tell me your name or what?” The kid ducked into the cab.

 

“Harvey.” He might as well just answer him. He extended a hand into the cab and the kid shook it. “And you are?”

 

“Michael.”

 

Harvey’s mouth went dry and took his hand back. “Did Kendall tell you to say that?”

 

“Say what?” Michael scooted over in the seat to make room for Harvey. “It’s my name. You can pick something else if you don’t like it, I don’t really care.”

 

Harvey tapped his fingers against the roof of the cab, looking down at those big dark eyes staring up at him expectantly. Michael wasn’t an uncommon name so he wasn’t convinced that Jonathan chose the kid because of it, but Harvey couldn’t pretend that it didn’t make a difference to him.  This wasn’t going to work. It was a stupid idea anyway.

 

Harvey sighed and took out his wallet. “I just remembered I have to do something. Sorry.” He handed Michael the other half of his fee, and twenty for cab fare.

 

Michael looked more confused than disappointed, but he accepted the money. “You have to return some video tapes?”

 

Harvey made himself smile at the _American Psycho_ reference but given the reality of the circumstances it just wasn’t that cute. “Another time,” he promised, even though there wouldn’t and couldn’t be another time. He closed the door of the car and watched it roll off.

 

It was getting cold, but Harvey ignored the next cab he saw. He needed to walk it off.

 

There was something wrong with Mike.

 

= = =

 

When Harvey went to bed on Friday night he was convinced that everything would seem clear and simple and unimportant in the morning. When he woke on Saturday, the first thing he did was roll over, reach for his cell phone and dial Mike Ross.  There was no answer. After a shower and half a cup of coffee, Harvey decided to call again. He wasn’t sure why it came as a surprise when Mike actually picked up.

 

_“Hi.”_

 

“I’ll just assume that you broke both your hands in that accident yesterday, because I can’t think of another reason why you’d miss seven of my calls in the past fourteen hours.” Harvey then realized that he’d called him more times in the past fourteen hours than he had in the past month. In the past _several_ months. He stepped onto his balcony with bare feet. The air was cool but the wood under his skin had already been heated by the sun.

 

_“I didn’t break my hands.”_

“Good. Then you’ll be able to do the homework that you couldn’t manage to come back to the office for last night.” Harvey made himself take another sip of coffee so that it didn’t sound like he had a million things to say.  Jonathan’s visit had put Harvey a little behind schedule, but Mike wasn’t going to get off easy just because he hadn’t been able to come back to the office the day before. Associates didn’t get to have weekends.

 

 _“Whatever you want,”_ Mike responded flatly. He sounded strange.

 

Harvey nodded to himself, looking down over his blue and bronze city. “Get here by noon if you can, I have places to be.”

 

 _“Oh...”_ Mike cleared his throat. _“Wouldn’t it be easier for you to e-mail it?”_

“No,” Harvey responded firmly. He needed to _see_ him. “Those hardcopies arrived at the office last night after you left. You can come to my place and get them, or I can bring them over if I have to.”

 

Mike was silent for a moment. _“No, it’s okay, I’ll be there in an hour.”_

Harvey ended the call before he could accidentally tack a “thanks” onto the end of it. Mike seemed less than enthusiastic about his instructions. It wasn’t like him. For the past few weeks Mike had made it pretty clear that he wanted to do more than the bare minimum, desperately trying to prove his worth, but he wasn’t exactly jumping at the opportunity to get caught up on what Harvey was supposed to have for him on Friday. Harvey probably should have expected it by now. He could only deflect Mike’s persistence so many times before the associate gave up on him. And that was the best thing for everyone, in the end.

 

Harvey shook his head and sipped the rest of his coffee, stepping closer to the railing of the balcony. It was one thing for Mike to stop trying to be his friend – that option was off the table – but it was another thing for Mike to ignore Harvey’s phone calls and refute his instructions when he _did_ answer. Even if sending him home early had been Harvey’s mistake, and even if Mike did seem to have a reason for being unable to return, he wouldn’t be able to get away with it again. When Harvey needed him there, Mike needed to be there. When Harvey needed him to stay out of the way, he needed him to stay out of the way. Without question.

 

Harvey had reasons for sending Mike home the day before, but he wished he hadn’t. He just didn’t want him getting involved in something he didn’t understand, like he always did. He needed him to stay out of it, because if Jonathan was good at anything it was spinning irrefutable lies out of misconstrued half-truths. Mike could start asking questions and wasting time. The less Jonathan knew about Mike the better, the less Mike knew about Jonathan’s ridiculous claims the better,  and if Harvey didn’t get him out of the picture he expected that Mike would probably do what he usually did, which was to “help” him behind his back. But then Harvey got the phone call from Jonathan’s lawyer and realized that sending Mike home, where he couldn’t keep an eye on him, was probably the worst way to keep him in line.

 

= = =

 

It was well before noon that Mike turned up at his door. Harvey had mostly believed him when he said he got into an accident, but it was difficult to pretend he wasn’t surprised or bothered to see him with a cut lip and a black eye. It seemed like he was barely awake and had probably been awoken by Harvey’s call. Mike just stood there wordlessly, embarrassed, his head turned away in an attempt to hide an obvious red lump and cut on his forehead. He didn’t look like he wanted to talk about it, but Harvey did.

 

“Whose wife did you sleep with this time?” Harvey hadn’t seen him like this since his adventures in infidelity. Best case scenario: he hadn’t learned from his mistakes. Worst case...

 

Harvey stopped himself before he let his imagination go, because Mike _had_ learned from the last mistake that ended this way.

 

Mike shot him a sideways glance. “You’ve got work for me?”

 

Harvey held up two thick folders. Mike tried to take them, but Harvey held on tight.

 

“I don’t need to know who did this to you,” Harvey said, using what felt like every muscle in his body to keep his voice smooth and steady. He didn’t speak again until Mike’s eyes reluctantly met his. “I just need to know who _didn’t_ do it.” _Not Jonathan. Not him._

 

Mike took a moment, then laughed softly. “If that’s a question, I don’t know how you expect me to answer it.”

 

Harvey exhaled slowly, pulling the files out of Mike’s fingers again. “Come on.” He nodded towards his living room and took one step back, but Mike only stared at him. “I mean it, get in here.”

 

Mike followed Harvey into his apartment. Harvey pointed to the sofa, and Mike slumped down, clearly exhausted. Harvey dropped the folders onto his coffee table with a heavy thud. Now that Mike was here in front of him, the documents seemed useless.

 

“This needs to stop,” Harvey stated frankly.

 

Mike’s big blue eyes blinked up at him a few times. “What?” As if he had no idea what Harvey was talking about. Maybe he didn’t.

 

“If you can’t take care of yourself, I can’t rely on you.”

 

Mike scoffed and shook his head, looking away.

 

Harvey’s pulse quickened. “That’s funny?”

 

“Yeah, a bit.” Mike nodded and looked up at him again, threading his fingers together between his knees. “Because you’ve made it pretty clear that you _don’t_ rely on me. For anything.”

 

“You have a job to do,” Harvey said quickly, before it got personal. “And if you can’t come in to work when I tell you to because you’re off getting the shit kicked out of you – and don’t give me that crap about an accident, because it looks like whoever did this to you _meant_ to do it – then something needs to change. I’ll at least give you credit for doing it on a Friday.”

 

Mike parted his lips but no words came out. Then he sighed and scratched the back of his head. “Can I go now?”

 

“Nope.” Harvey’s eyes locked curiously onto Mike’s, watching him grow more and more self-conscious. That was good. It meant he _knew_ he’d done something wrong. “I need to ask you something,” Harvey decided carefully. “And you need to be honest with me.”

 

Mike blew out a long breath from between his lips and shifted in his seat. “When someone works as hard as you do to prove that you’re not capable of forgiveness, it doesn’t exactly inspire people to be honest with you all the time.”

 

“If _people_ stopped doing things that they need to apologize for, then _people_ wouldn’t need to be forgiven,” Harvey pointed out, a little annoyed with the way that Mike was making forgiveness sound more like a skill than a compromise. “Did you talk to Jonathan Kendall?”

 

Mike looked away and raked his fingers through his hair. “Shit,” he muttered.

 

“Listen.” Harvey stepped closer, afraid that Mike had already answered his question, but he needed more. “You’ve given me every reason not to trust you, and I need to know that when I ask you a direct question, you can give me a direct answer, at the very least. I got an unusual call from Kendall’s lawyer last night, and when I called you, you weren’t where you were supposed to be. What am I supposed to think?”

 

Mike’s eyes widened a little when he looked back at Harvey. “What did his lawyer say?”

 

“He told me that Jonathan was walking away from the settlement. No lawsuit, no nothing.”

 

Mike was frozen, unblinking. “That’s good, right?”

 

“No, it’s not good.” Harvey paced opposite the coffee table standing between them. “The son of a bitch never gave me the evidence I needed to put him away for extortion. I _needed_ that settlement. He walks away from _everything_ , but he’s not supposed to get away with it when he threatens _me._ Did you talk to him or didn’t you? I know somebody talked to him, I know he’s taken an interest in you, and I know you were in his neighbourhood last night when I called.”

 

Mike’s eyes lost focus and his face paled. He sat frozen a moment, lost in a thought, then propped his elbows on his knees and covered his mouth with a hand. He sucked a deep breath in through his nose and held it.

 

“Answer the question,” Harvey pressed. “You have to be honest with me, Mike, because I do not want to start jumping to my own conclusions right now.” It took everything he had in him not to let his imagination run off with the very few things he knew.

 

Mike dropped his hand from his mouth and looked up at Harvey with eyes that looked just a little wet around the edges. “Are you kidding me?” His voice was barely above a whisper. “How can you ask me to be honest about this now? You lied to me.”

 

“I never lied to you,” Harvey argued. “What the hell are you talking about? Jesus, why can’t anyone just give me a straight answer for once?”

 

“You let me think he was really going to sue you if you didn’t settle...”

 

“I told you that it didn’t concern you,” Harvey sternly reminded him. “I needed to keep it under wraps and you’ve proven time and time again that you can’t keep your mouth shut. Not to mention that he was standing outside the door ogling you while you were in my office talking to me. What could I say?”

 

“I wanted to help,” Mike said, still looking a bit dazed. He shook his head. “You could have told me. I could have helped.”

 

“I didn’t need your help.” _I didn’t want to get you on his bad side. I wanted to keep him away from you. I don’t like the way he was looking at you._  “I don’t _want_ your help.”

 

Mike stood slowly, his eyes unfocused. “Then I guess I can leave these here,” he said, pointing to the folders on the coffee table.

 

“You’re not going anywhere until you answer my question.” Harvey moved between Mike and the exit.

 

“Yes,” Mike admitted in defeat, getting the inevitable over with.

 

 “When?” Harvey wasn’t surprised but he wasn’t satisfied. A part of him had still hoped for an explanation that maybe he hadn’t thought of. Something simple and reasonable. A day full of bad timing and nothing more.

 

“In the elevator. After you sent me home.”

 

“Did you tell him that I tried to fire you?”

 

“No.” Mike shook his head then paused. “Not in the elevator.”

 

Harvey’s blood was boiling. His throat was tight. “What the hell was that supposed to accomplish, genius?”

 

“Nothing, it just...” Mike’s breath was audibly shaky and unsteady. “It came up in conversation.”

 

“I specifically told you to stay away from him!” Harvey pressed a hand to Mike’s shoulder when he made a weak attempt to bypass him for the exit.

 

“I tried, he followed me.” Mike took a few steps back and sat on the arm of the sofa, resigning to the interrogation.

 

“You should have tried harder.” It wasn’t easy to pace his line of questioning now that someone was giving him real answers. Harvey was so angry he didn’t even know who to lay it on. Mike for ignoring his instructions? Jonathan for approaching Mike? Or himself for not trying harder to keep Mike out of harm’s way?

 

“He did this to you,” Harvey said. It was barely a question, and Mike didn’t need to answer.

 

“It got out of hand, I don’t know what to say.” Mike looked weak and ill, his head hanging. “You weren’t supposed to find out.”

 

Harvey fought the angry vice around in his throat. “What wasn’t I supposed to find out?” Had Mike _planned_ to get knocked around?

 

Mike wouldn’t respond.

 

“Talk to me.” Harvey could barely think.

 

“He wanted to tell me things,” Mike said. “You wouldn’t tell me anything. I didn’t see the harm. How could I say no?”

 

“I hope you didn’t believe anything you heard.” Harvey had a pretty good idea of what Jonathan probably said, but he was very creative and who knew what else he’d come up with. Not knowing for sure made him a little anxious.

 

Mike shook his head and looked up. “I didn’t. But... I mean, you were settling, so I thought there must be _something_ to it.”

 

“Well first of all, there was nothing to it,” Harvey insisted. “And what made you think I was settling?” Harvey was pretty sure he never mentioned that part.

 

 “Jonathan told me.” Mike bit his swollen lip. “And... Donna mentioned it. Please don’t be mad at her, she was trying to talk me out of it.”

 

Harvey’s limbs felt heavy. “Out of what?”

 

Mike took a few deep, calming breaths. “Helping.” There was regret painted all over his face.

 

“Helping how?”

 

Neither of them moved nor spoke as Harvey tried to bridge the gap between the phony settlement and the bruises on Mike’s face. It was enough to see Mike beaten and worn like this, but it was worse knowing that in some way it was because of him, despite believing that it couldn’t really have been his fault. _Maybe_ if he’d let Mike in on his plans, and _maybe_ if he hadn’t sent him home... but _maybe_ wasn’t real, and Harvey hadn’t done anything to Mike. He didn’t tell anyone to beat up his associate, so the guilt tugging at his ribs had to be unwarranted.

 

“You didn’t help me, Mike.” He knew he was salting Mike’s wounds but he needed to be clear, and Mike needed to learn. “Whatever you did, you were _wrong_. It’s over, it can’t be fixed.” Jonathan was leaving town the next day and he needed to let him go. “And now all I’m asking for is the truth. How did this happen?”

 

“He...” Mike was searching for something. “I mean, he _liked_ me. You know? And.” His voice was shaking but he didn’t seem to notice. “Look, I know it was wrong, but I didn’t think I had anything to lose. I guess I shouldn’t have been drinking. I drank too much,” he confessed, shaking his head.

 

Harvey’s jaw was clamped shut before he forced a short, dry laugh. “Come on, Mike. What did you do, fuck him?” He lay on the sarcasm nice and thick. All he wanted was for Mike to deny it, call him crazy, and tell him that his joke wasn’t funny. That’s all he needed.

 

But Mike didn’t say anything. He just sniffed once, stood, and picked up the files.

 

“Are you out of your mind?” Harvey was on the livid side of numb. This had to be a mistake, but it wasn’t. He grabbed Mike’s arm when he tried to walk past him and his eyes snapped into sharp focus inches away from Harvey’s. “What the hell do you stand to gain from something like that?”

 

“Harvey, please don’t touch me right now.” Mike’s eyes were clear and sure.

 

Harvey released his grip, and in return, Mike remained still.

 

“I was willing to take a risk,” Mike explained, seeming more confident now. “There was a chance it would help your situation but I didn’t think it could make anything worse.”

 

“Any worse for who, you or me?” Mike had _nothing_ to gain from doing something like that. It could _only_ make things worse for him.... unless he’d wanted and enjoyed it, which was even more difficult to believe. Harvey shook his head at the thought.

 

“I was wrong. I wasn’t thinking straight. I’m sorry.”

 

“I don’t want an apology, I want you to answer my question. _What did you stand to gain?_ ”

 

“It wasn’t about me,” Mike protested. “He said he’d drop the lawsuit against you if I dropped my pants, it seemed pretty simple. I didn’t just want to stand around and do _nothing_ while you –”

 

“Hey, don’t make this about me,” Harvey snapped. “You asked how you could help, and you ignored the one thing I asked you to do. In fact, you went out of your way to do the opposite.” He examined Mike’s blank expression, no idea what he was feeling or thinking, dying for just a spark of insight. “You had absolutely no reason to do what you did. Did you think that if I actually asked for your help, that’s the kind of help I’d expect? A normal person doesn’t get drunk and have sex with a sadist – among other things – to be _helpful_.” Looking at Mike, this person he thought he knew so well, Harvey wasn’t sure if he could really believe it. He didn’t want to believe it. He knew that Mike had some issues to work through, but this was too much. “What a fucking mess. I can’t believe you.”

 

“I’ve never claimed to be a normal person.” Mike was already losing the composure he’d found moments earlier.

 

“I don’t get it,” Harvey admitted, searching Mike’s eyes for an answer. “Help me understand how something like this happens.”

 

Mike sighed. “He told me about his claims against you. He invited me over. I told him I wasn’t interested, but he was persuasive. Said that he didn’t care much about it in the end, that he would walk away, that he’d leave you alone. As far as I knew, that’s what you wanted. I had no reason to believe otherwise.”

 

Harvey opened his mouth to protest, but Mike persisted, speaking over him.

 

“We had some drinks, he put his offer on the table, it was a one-time thing, he got his lawyer on the phone, I agreed. I don’t normally...” Mike swallowed hard and pushed himself to keep going. “I didn’t know what he’s like. By the time I figured it out it had already gone too far. So I kept drinking. I don’t even know how this happened,” he admitted, touching the lump on his head. “He knocked me out when I stopped fighting it, I guess he got bored. That’s why I didn’t pick up my phone. I wasn’t trying to ignore you. I’m so sorry. I was too drunk when you called me back to the office, and I...” He blinked furiously, trying to catch his breath. “Shit, Harvey, I don’t _do_ that kinda stuff, I didn’t know it would fuck me up so much.” Mike’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

 

Harvey tried not to think about the “kind of stuff” Mike was referring to. It already hurt too much without knowing. He had warned Mike about Jonathan, but the last thing he was going to do to a person who’d been assaulted was say “I told you so”, as much as a part of him wanted to.

 

Mike tried to push past him again but Harvey stood his ground and lifted his open palms, reminding himself not to touch.

 

“I need you to take care of yourself,” Harvey repeated. If he couldn’t protect Mike, Mike needed to learn how to protect himself. “You have to put yourself first. You can’t put anyone else’s needs above your own – not that I needed you to do what you did, because I _didn’t_ – and you especially can’t make assumptions about what I need.”

 

Mike’s laughter finally shook the tears from his eyes. “That’s the very fucking opposite of everything you’ve _ever_ told me.” His voice was somewhat strained as he tried to ignore the fact that he was crying. “What am I supposed to think? What do I have to do? I’ll do anything, you know I will, but you’d rather just go on hating me instead of talking to me! I’m on the goddamn brink, Harvey.”

 

“I don’t want you to do anything stupid.” He didn’t hate Mike. He felt a lot of things about him, occasionally distrust or frustration, but never hatred. Especially not now, seeing him in tears... he wasn’t sure what he was feeling. “All I’ve asked is for you to do your job, and to be loyal. I don’t really think you understand what loyalty is.” Maybe Harvey had given him a skewed definition, because it seemed like that’s how Mike was trying to spin his encounter with Jonathan.

 

“If this is about Jessica...”

 

“This again...” Harvey rolled his eyes.

 

“Harvey, I would have been _gone._ I can’t be loyal to you if I’m not _there_ for you. How do you think that works?” He finally noticed the wet streaks on his face and wiped them away with his sleeve. “You say you want _me_ to be honest. You say _you_ want a straight answer. What about me? I literally have _no idea_ what you want from me. I try to protect _myself,_ and you tell me we’re done. I try to protect _you,_ and you...” Mike shrugged. “I mean, what now? Is this it?”

 

Harvey swallowed an answer that he didn’t really have.

 

“Fine. Good. Go ahead, tell Jessica all about it and she’ll take your side this time. You’ll never see me again.”

 

“Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.” Harvey could hardly breathe. This was more than he was prepared for. “Even if I wanted to fire you again, for some reason you’re Jessica’s favourite now. What, did you have sex with her, too?” Mike tried to push past Harvey again but Harvey gripped his arm, probably tighter than he needed to. “Oh and by the way, I _still_ don’t know why you had sex Rachel, because she can’t do shit for you at the firm. Am I the only person to set foot in that office who you _haven’t_ fucked?” That’s where Harvey managed to catch his tongue. _Careful._

 

“I told you not to touch me and I meant it.”

 

Harvey let go and took a step back, a chill running down his spine. He refused to look away as the shame began to well up inside him. He was punishing the wrong person. This wasn’t helpful.

 

“Feel better?” Mike seemed oddly unfazed by what Harvey had said, despite his wet eyes.

 

“No.” They were both unravelling and Harvey didn’t know what to do. He hadn’t expected this. He thought he was supposed to be angry at Mike for going behind his back but lashing out at him for it didn’t feel justified. “I didn’t mean that.” He really didn’t understand the Rachel thing, but now wasn’t the time.

 

“I know.” Mike crossed his arms and looked down. “He said it would hurt you if you found out. I didn’t believe him.”

 

“Two birds with one stone.” Mike probably couldn’t fully understand _why_ this hurt Harvey so much. “He made sure I figured it out. Mike, look at me.”

 

Mike blinked and gave him a stare. There was so much hurt and regret in his eyes, Harvey could feel it just looking at him. And suddenly this wasn’t about Mike going behind Harvey’s back. It was about what had happened to Mike when Harvey turned his back on him.

 

“You didn’t deserve this. You didn’t.”

 

“Maybe you don’t think so, but I know I did it to myself,” Mike argued weakly. “I’m all messed up. I’m messing up my life, I’m messing up _your_ life...”

 

“Stop.” Harvey watched it all tip into perspective before him. “This thing with Kendall and me...” If he couldn’t be honest with himself, he couldn’t expect Mike to be honest with him. “Okay... big picture: it’s really not a big deal.” It wasn’t easy to admit given what he’d invested.

 

Mike shook his head. “But he threatened you.”

 

“Don’t get me wrong, I want to see the son of a bitch locked away but there were a million ways I could have got him off my back without baiting him. I chose to get involved when I should have cut him loose.” If Harvey had involved anyone else in his plans, they would have tried to talk him out of it, and he just may have listened. Maybe given a little more time, he would have talked himself out of it. “He had nothing on me. Nothing substantial. He can say whatever he wants, his word doesn’t mean shit to anyone. He’s not worth my time.” Harvey didn’t mean to echo Jonathan’s words about him, but he did mean it. He moved closer to Mike, then stopped himself, never having realized how often he touched him until he tried not to. “What happened with you and Kendall... _that_ is a pretty big fucking deal.”

 

“I know.” Mike deflated. “I went behind your back.”

 

“Yeah, you did. But that’s not what I’m talking about.” Harvey was too angry about Jonathan hurting Mike than to be angry about Mike going behind his back. He just didn’t have room for it.

 

Mike looked confused.

 

Harvey rubbed his eyes. The apartment suddenly felt too quiet. The sun was too bright. “Do you... want some coffee?” He needed to slow down and get a grip.  

 

Mike took a few steps forward, ignoring his question. Harvey figured he was trying to leave again and was prepared to allow it this time, but Mike walked right into him. Harvey was expecting a shove and braced himself, but instead he only felt lips on his, salted with tears. Very gentle.

 

Harvey was stunned, uncertain what was happening until it had already lingered a few seconds too long. He stepped back, heart racing, lips tingling, but cool and still on the outside. Mike was standing there hanging his head, looking a bit devastated and completely lost.

 

“What...” Harvey searched for words, wondering if he should just kick Mike out of his apartment immediately. If he was trying to get himself fired, that was a hell of a way to go about it. “I guess you’re probably feeling really emotional right now...” He spoke very slowly, trying to make sense of it all. “So I’m going to pretend... that didn’t happen.” _It’s okay. You’ve got this, Harvey. It was all him. You stopped it. Good job._

 

Mike was quiet for a few seconds. “Thank you,” he said softly when he finally looked up from his shoes. He seemed just as taken aback as Harvey.

 

Harvey swallowed and desperately tried not to taste his lips. “Is that a yes or no to the coffee?”

 

“Yes?”

 

= = =

 

Before he had the opportunity to take a sip of his coffee, Mike fell asleep on Harvey’s couch while going over some paperwork, and Harvey let him. He seemed hung-over and sleep deprived, and probably was. Watching Mike sleep felt even more obscene than what had transpired earlier that morning, which Harvey still couldn’t wrap his head around and knew that there was no way in hell he could forget about it. This morning would either be a step forward or a step back, but there was no way things were going to continue as they had been for the past month. Something had to change, and Harvey felt ready for it.

 

As he sat in his chair across from Mike, Harvey thought about what the associate had told him about his bargain with Jessica: that he couldn’t be loyal if he wasn’t there. It was the truth. Sometimes the best way to avoid being shot would be to stand behind someone wearing a bullet proof vest, and that someone would be Harvey. He meditated on that for about an hour, breaking his line of thought to watch Mike roll over in his sleep when a sunbeam inched across his eyelids.

 

Harvey’s gaze fixed on the raised cut on his hairline, and he couldn’t prevent himself from imagining what he’d put himself through. What he’d done was stupid, irresponsible, and dangerous, but Harvey couldn’t say that it wasn’t out of loyalty, or some twisted interpretation of the word. He also knew that Mike probably got some things he hadn’t signed up for. Nothing justified what Mike had done, nothing made it okay or rational, but when it came down to it, Jonathan was the one who’d done the real harm. Mike hadn’t hurt anyone. Harvey was angry, yes, but not in the way he’d expected.

 

The really fucked up thing about the whole mess was that had Harvey actually been entering a legitimate settlement, Mike’s bargain with Jonathan might have _worked_. He _had_ pulled out of the settlement, after all. And thank god it _didn’t_ work because Mike would have learned the wrong lesson. At this point, technically, Harvey wasn’t at a loss with Jonathan out of the picture, and there was no way he could have come out ahead anyway. Mike was the only one who’d really lost.

 

“Mike.”

 

He didn’t stir.

 

Harvey leaned forward in his chair. “Mike,” he repeated a little louder. “This is your wake-up call.”

 

Mike turned his head and opened his heavy-lidded eyes.

 

Harvey bit his tongue, making sure that what he was about to say was motivated by anything but his emotions, which were completely unreliable. “I can’t work with you if we’re not... working together. If we’re not talking to each other, we’re not being efficient. I mean... look what happens.” Workplace efficiency. This was of the utmost relevance. Mike – the one person in his life that he felt even remotely responsible for – getting fucked and knocked around by the criminal who had recently slipped through Harvey’s fingers for the second time was just a symptom of poor communication and required no further discussion. End of story.

 

Mike slowly sat upright on the couch. “So does this mean you’re dropping the Cone of Silence?”

 

“More like... making some room in the cone.”

 

Mike smiled. Harvey almost caught himself doing the same.

 

“As long as you can tell me you’re sane.” Harvey gritted his teeth and straightened his back. “You did an insane thing and I need to know if I can count on you to stay alive, show up, do your job, be rational. And _honest_.” He paused. “And I’ll do the same.” Not that it was his fault, but things might have turned out differently if he’d told Mike the truth when he had asked to help.

 

“Am I sane?” Mike took a moment to consider it, the word “sane” staining his tongue like a curse. “To tell you the truth, Harvey... I’m really not sure anymore.”

 

“Your brain still works, doesn’t it?” _Keep it together, Mike. Follow my lead. I’m getting us back on track._

Mike nodded.

 

“Good. Then use it.” Harvey stood and collected a few of the files they’d opened up on the coffee table before Mike had fallen asleep. Maybe Mike’s brain wasn’t broken but he was made up of so many other working parts.

 

“As opposed to my emotions, right?”

 

“Exactly,” Harvey said, without really thinking. It was probably the right answer. Emotional decision-making was to blame for the majority of Mike’s mistakes. “Know these documents inside and out,” he instructed, extending the stack of documents. “Summarize them and tell me if you find any inconsistencies. See you on Monday.”

 

Mike stood with the nod and took the folders. But he wasn’t leaving. “Do you really want to?”

 

“What?”

 

“Do you want to see me on Monday.” Mike was having a hard time meeting Harvey’s eyes, but he managed.

 

“You still work for me,” Harvey responded, carefully maneuvering around the question. “I expect to see you.”

 

Mike nodded, his shoulders relaxing. He made his way across the apartment, but as Harvey watched him go he knew there was something he’d been meaning to ask, even if he didn’t want to. He followed him to the front door.

 

“Mike.”

 

Mike stopped with his hand on the doorknob. He glanced back with a look on his face like he thought he was in trouble.

 

Harvey sighed and gave in to the bullshit question that had been nagging at him. “Are you okay?” He shouldn’t have had to ask. There was no way Mike was okay. He was hurt, embarrassed and scared for his job. There was no way of knowing where he was at psychologically, but it couldn’t be good.

 

Mike blinked a couple times as he considered his answer. “I’m okay if we’re okay.”

 

Harvey nodded, but he wasn’t sure he liked that Mike was putting his sense of wellbeing in Harvey’s hands.

 

Mike looked like he was about to say something else, but changed his mind. “You have somewhere to be,” he reminded him. And then he left.

 

Harvey stood there for a few minutes before he grabbed his keys and wallet. On the phone he’d lied about plans in order to get Mike over to his apartment sooner rather than later, but now something had come up.

 

= = =

 

Harvey barely remembered to slam the door of the cab behind him when he stepped out in front of Jonathan’s temporary residence. He hit the buzzer. Nothing. He tried it again, and held it, which seemed to do the trick last time, but after two minutes he gave up and pulled out his cell phone, pissed off that he even had the guy’s number in his contact list.

 

It rang. And rang. It went to voicemail, so Harvey hung up and tried again. Two more rings, then finally, a static click.

 

_“What part of ‘we have nothing left to discuss’ do you not understand?”_

“Let me in, Kendall, I’m not going away.”

 

 _“Sorry, no can do. I’m at a meeting with a new distributor in Jersey. I didn’t come up north just to stroke your ego, you know. I_ do _have a business to run.”_

 

Harvey’s fist was burning for hard contact. He cooled his knuckles on the slab of stone that the buzzer was mounted on.

 

_“Is there something you need from me? We can’t gab on the phone all day.”_

“You’re finished.” Harvey wanted to let go, but he couldn’t. “Right now I’ve got you for sexual assault, soliciting a minor and dispensing alcohol to a minor. You’ve barely even been here for 24 hours.” As far as he knew, Jonathan still thought that the Michael kid from the other night was underage. If Harvey couldn’t hit him, he could at least scare him.

 

Jonathan paused to think for less than a second. _“You’re out of your mind. I haven’t got a clue what you’re talking about.”_

 

“They’re both willing to testify.” Even if he’d taken the Michael kid’s number, he was apparently 18. Not that he’d checked his identification. And as for Mike... well, it _was_ assault, though he never expected Mike to seek repercussions. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea, though.

 

 _“I highly doubt that.”_ Jonathan’s voice fell to a hush. He must not have been alone. _“No hustler in his right mind is going to the cops to take down his livelihood. And as for ‘sexual assault’... I’ve got to say, I’m surprised how fast the word spreads around that water cooler. But you don’t have to be a bitch about it just because I got to him first. The circumstances were hardly criminal, I can assure you.”_

“The law disagrees.” The more Harvey thought about it, the more he began to seriously consider if Mike should be taking some kind of action. Harvey hadn’t been there and he didn’t know much, but he knew enough.

_“Even if you had testimonies from these little shits, you don’t have any proof. So_ fuck _you, and_ fuck _off.”_

Harvey almost laughed when Jonathan abruptly hung up. A tiny wave of satisfaction rippled through him, knowing that he’d actually scared the guy, or at least made him nervous. And he _should_ have been nervous. Even if Harvey wasn’t going to follow through this time, the guy had some impulses that he was obviously getting careless about and his time was definitely coming.

 

Harvey stepped onto the sidewalk again, shaking his head, when he caught himself considering something. Jonathan said that he didn’t have proof. Harvey hadn’t been thinking about proof. He was just rattling the guy, making up a scary story as he went along. But Mike _was_ assaulted. Harvey believed that. And according to Jonathan’s dubiously of-age guest, there was very possibly proof to be found in that apartment.

 

The idea of publically acknowledging that Mike had been assaulted and taking action made his stomach turn. It wasn’t up to him, it was Mike’s choice, though realistically it could end up being counter-productive in some ways given the reason he was there. It was a risk... but a possibility.

 

Harvey’s thumb hovered over Mike’s name on his phone for a moment before he put it back in his pocket and walked down the street to hail another cab. He wanted to give Mike the weekend to put his mind on other things, but Jonathan was leaving on Sunday and the bloody towel might disappear within a day less, if it wasn’t already gone.

 

Best to let it go. Mike could fight his own battles.

 

= = =

 

Harvey soaked up the remainder of his Saturday scouring a few record stores for gems, a quick tan and a few beers on his balcony, an unusually successful home-cooked meal, and a risqué modern art reception full of beautiful people and an incredible live jazz trio. He got the invite to the event from an old fling who didn’t try to show him off or pressure him, so he relaxed into the lukewarm familiarity of her company. In the end they both went home with other people. Harvey wasn’t particularly in the mood that night, but spending an evening with his face between the thighs of an impeccably dressed and perfumed journalist who wanted to listen to Miles Davis on vinyl while he went down on her... it had a certain appeal. She left shortly before 4:00am to go home and change and get to her next assignment in the Bronx. They didn’t exchange numbers.

 

For a little while Harvey felt convinced that he’d scrubbed away the ugly week with some quality relaxation, but he lay awake in bed for nearly six hours before he accepted that if he couldn’t get something off his mind, it was probably important. So for the second morning in a row, he reached over to his end table, grabbed his phone, and dialed Mike Ross before rolling out of bed.

 

_“Is it Monday? What time is it?”_

 

Harvey sat on the edge of his bed and rolled his eyes. “It’s Sunday, but that doesn’t mean you’re entitled to sleep in this late.”

 

 _“I was up till five...”_ He yawned. _“What’s up?”_

Mike sounded like himself again, and Harvey was reluctant to bring him down. “Kendall’s leaving town today, so if you want to take action, now’s the time to do it. If there’s physical evidence in that apartment it’s not going to be there much longer.”

 

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone, which Harvey expected. He heard sheets rustling and papers crinkling, leading him to briefly imagine that Mike’s mattress was stuffed with pages from outdated encyclopaedias and legal manuals.

 

 _“I’ll pass.”_ His voice was flat and dull.

Harvey nodded. It’s what he expected, but he still wasn’t sure how he felt about it. “See you tomorrow.”

 

_“Yep.”_

Click.

 

= = =

 

It only took a few days to get back on track. It had been a lot more work trying to avoid Mike than to just allow their individual trajectories to intersect whenever convenient and natural. It was easier to get back into the swing of it than Harvey had imagined. On paper nothing had ever changed between them, but there had been a huge interpersonal void that Harvey had, for a time following Jessica’s sleight of hand, believed was necessary. But it wasn’t. He didn’t even realize how much their productivity had actually suffered in that time until they were bouncing ideas back and forth again like the right brain and left brain of the same consciousness. The most amazing thing was that Mike didn’t seem to be holding anything against him. Everything that had happened from Jessica to Jonathan already seemed so distant and surreal. It was as if the past month hadn’t even happened. Until Friday night.

 

He had no idea that Mike was still in the building. Harvey was stuck in his office waiting for a call from a client who was purchasing a company in Japan. 11:00pm New York time was the soonest he could get confirmation on the new terms. It was at 10:50pm that Mike let himself into Harvey’s office.

 

“You didn’t need to stick around for this,” Harvey pointed out, but it had been a long and quiet evening and the company wouldn’t kill him.

 

“Yeah, I know. I just wanted to get ahead of some stuff so I can chillax this weekend.”

 

“ _Chillax?”_ Harvey grinned and leaned back in his chair. “Big plans to loiter at an arcade with Pauly Shore?”

 

“I wish.”

 

“Fair enough, but I’ve got Japan covered so you’re good to go. I just need the number on the final bid so I can give him the next step.”

 

“No, I mean, I’m done my work, I just wanted to ask you something before I leave. A couple things, actually...”

 

Harvey nodded. When someone prefaced a question with a statement that they were about to ask it, it usually wasn’t something he wanted to hear.

 

Mike bit his lip, seeming to have a little bit of trouble getting it out. “I know it was three years ago and that it doesn’t matter, but did you call Kendall a ‘faggot’ in open court when you were his lawyer?”

 

Harvey squinted, trying to pretend he wasn’t offended by the question. “Of all the things I feel like calling him, that’s the last thing on my mind.”

 

“It didn’t seem like you,” Mike said, “But he was ready to show me the transcripts.”

 

“He was all pissed off that I outed him in court,” Harvey explained. “Which is fair, but I had to. It was the only thing that could invalidate the claims that his actions were motivated by homophobia. But I never used that word.”

 

Mike nodded but he didn’t seem completely satisfied.

 

Harvey sighed and wrapped it up. “A witness dropped the f-bomb while he was supposedly quoting Kendall, who apparently used the word ‘faggot’ in reference to an unspoken workplace policy. All I said was that, if it was true, then Kendall would have been breaking his own rules. So in his mind, maybe I called him a ‘faggot’, but I didn’t use that word. I don’t particularly like it.”

 

“Okay.” Mike seemed to accept his answer. “Sorry, I just... I was curious.”

 

“Understandable.” Harvey waited for the next question. He’d been warned that there would be more than one.

 

Mike sighed. “Why did you bring up my taking legal action against Kendall?”

 

Apparently this was still real. “Like I said, he was leaving town and there was only a small window for physical evidence.” He could hardly remember the brief phone call.

 

“Okay... I know you said that, but...” Mike stepped up to Harvey’s desk and braced his fingertips on the surface. “First of all, what do you mean by physical evidence? It was... safe and everything.” Mike obviously felt uncomfortable referring to the small but intimate detail.

 

“That’s not what I meant.” _But thank god he used a rubber. Thank fucking god._ “Is there any way your blood could have ended up on a towel in his bathroom?”

 

“Um... maybe? I took a shower. It’s hard to remember.” He chewed at his lower lip, which had healed, as had the cut on his head and the bruise under his eye. “Why are you asking about a towel?”

 

“Someone saw a bloody towel in his bathroom the same night, after you left. If it was your blood, it’s pretty much irrefutable evidence of assault. He would have entered a plea if you pressed charges. It never would have gone to trial.”

 

“Who told you this?”

 

Harvey shook his head and brushed it off. “It’s not that important.”

 

“What happened to the honesty thing that we were gonna do? I want to know who told you that they found my blood on a towel.”

 

Harvey rolled his eyes. “A prostitute. Okay? He was there when I went to talk to Kendall on Friday night about the settlement.” It already felt like so long ago. “He told me that he was afraid Kendall was violent, and that he’d seen a bloody towel in the bathroom.”

 

“Shit, so how come he stuck around?”

 

“He didn’t. He told me after we left.”

 

“You left with a male prostitute who you found in Jonathan Kendall’s apartment?”

 

“Technically speaking... I guess I did.” Harvey was a little amused by the expression on Mike’s face. “It was kind of time sensitive and I wanted to point it out to you. That’s all. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but it occurred to me later that we _could_ use it _if_ we pressed charges.”

 

“We?”

 

“You.”

 

Mike nodded, drawing a circle on Harvey’s desk with his finger.

 

Harvey waited for more but Mike seemed to be finished. “Did I answer your questions?”

 

Mike scratched his nose. “I guess I just wasn’t really clear on why it seemed like you wanted me to press charges.”

 

Harvey cocked his head and examined Mike’s expression. He wasn’t sure what his associate expected him to say.

 

“I just mean...”

 

“Tell me what you mean, Mike.”

 

“If you wanted to get at him through me, I just would have appreciated it if you were upfront about it.”

 

“That’s not why I called you.” Harvey was somewhere between annoyed and unnerved that Mike would have even considered him using something like that to get what he wanted. When he suggested pressing charges the only person he had in mind was Mike. “Just in _case_ you were considering it—“

 

“Then you’d have him exactly where you wanted him.” Mike seemed pretty calm about the whole thing. “It’s okay, I get it. It’s my fault you lost him in the first place.”

 

“That’s bullshit.”

 

“Taking home Kendall’s sloppy seconds is bullshit,” Mike murmured, catching himself saying it just a little too late.

 

“Excuse me?” Harvey leaned forward and tried to meet Mike’s eyes. “First of all, it’s none of your business. And not that you need to know, but I didn’t take anyone home. I just got him out of that apartment.” There was no need to mention that he probably would have taken him home if he’d given Harvey any name other than Michael.

 

Mike fixed his eyes on Harvey’s. “Was he attractive?”

 

“Why would you want to know that?” It was subjective and irrelevant. This was getting a little too personal for comfort, but if Jonathan had dealt the homophobia card then maybe Mike was just looking for evidence to the contrary. “He was alright.”

 

“Would you have taken him home if he hadn’t fucked Kendall?” Mike’s jaw tensed. It was pretty clear he knew he was overstepping.

 

“Actually he didn’t have the opportunity...” Harvey thought really carefully about where this line of questioning might have been coming from and what kind of answer would sit most delicately on the fence between appropriate and reassuring. “But I don’t think it would have weighed on my interest. Had there been any interest.”

 

Mike nodded. He had a sad but determined expression that Harvey was a little intrigued by. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Mike’s face. Maybe he was just glad to see that he’d healed.

 

Mike took a deep breath. “Look, about what happened the other day in your apartment—“

 

Harvey’s blood immediately began pumping through his veins hotter and faster, knowing _exactly_ what Mike was referring to, when the phone rang. He grabbed the receiver, his life raft. 

 

“Dan, Konnichiha. How’s everything shaping up in Japan?”

 

Harvey watched as Mike took his hand off his desk with a short nod and walked out.

 

He should have known that the kiss would inevitably need to be dealt with. Forgetting it apparently wasn’t working for either of them. Mike had more problems forgetting things than the average person. Even small, impulsive, meaningless things. So what was Harvey’s excuse?

 

= = =

 

It was almost 1:00am by the time Harvey found himself outside Mike’s building. He tried to second guess himself but he just didn’t feel like it. He stepped over the concrete block propping open the front door of the building and made his way up to Mike’s apartment.

 

Even as he was knocking he figured he probably should have texted or called first, but somehow he knew Mike would be up. He heard some vaguely familiar television voices coming from inside the apartment before he heard a lock click. Mike didn’t seem that surprised to see him when he opened the door. Maybe he was getting used to these surprise visits.

 

“Go ahead and say what you were going to say,” Harvey told him.

 

Mike seemed apprehensive, shifting a little on his bare feet. He was in a white t-shirt and some flannel pyjama pants. It was oddly endearing. Even Harvey didn’t have it together enough to sleep in jammies.

 

“Do you wanna come in?”

 

Good question. He knew the appropriate answer, but then he also knew what he wanted, and Mike wouldn’t have invited him in if he didn’t want him there. He answered by stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. Immediately he spotted one of his favourite mafia movies on TV, a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, and a balled up blanket on the couch. Mike was getting his weekend off to a really good start.

 

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” Mike said, getting it out of the way. He didn’t seem that hung-up on it anymore... maybe he’d had some time to practice this conversation in his head, or maybe he just didn’t regret it. Although he couldn’t seem to say it.

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Harvey assured him, although Mike didn’t exactly say he was worried, nor was he actually apologizing for his actions.

 

“I also wanted you to know that it wasn’t because of everything that happened. It wasn’t about anything.”

 

“Well I hadn’t put much thought into it.” Harvey was lying. He also wasn’t sure what Mike was trying to tell him. Didn’t he want to use his emotional turmoil as a scapegoat? Harvey was ready to accept that, or at least pretend to. He considered saying something responsible like “it won’t happen again”, but that probably should have been Mike’s line and he’d neglected to say it. So Harvey didn’t bother either.

 

Mike glanced over at the television, and Harvey followed his gaze. They both stood there behind the couch watching the scene unfold.

 

“It’s almost over but... there’s popcorn,” Mike offered casually.

 

“I like this movie.” Harvey was stating the obvious. Everyone liked this movie. He rounded the couch when Mike did and sat down. Fuck it. It was the weekend. He relaxed easily into the couch while Mike slumped back and propped his feet up on the coffee table.

 

Harvey exhaled, overcome by how remarkably calm and easy it felt to be next to Mike in his apartment in the early hours of the morning. And he knew that everything was alright. They were good. And since they were good, Mike was okay.

 

After a few handfuls of popcorn, Mike handed the bowl over to Harvey, who took it gratefully. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Mike suck the salt from his thumb. Harvey took a long, steady breath and tried to put his blinders on so that he could concentrate on the movie, or at least pretend to.

 

_‘I’ve been thinking about our deal. And you can stick it in your ear.’_

 

Harvey popped a few kernels in his mouth. Mike’s speakers were terrible.

 

_‘You don’t have anything on me that I don’t have on you, so I’m calling your bluff.’_

“I didn’t put this on, it just came on TV,” Mike explained.

 

Harvey laughed softly and set the popcorn bowl down on the couch between them.

 

A few seconds later, Mike moved it to the table.

 

Slowly, the voices on the television faded into the background. After only five minutes or so it became almost impossible to ignore the nearness of Mike’s body and the intimacy of being in his home with him so late for no good reason. The calm was becoming something else. Harvey didn’t have to look at Mike to feel him staring into space, pretending to watch the movie.

 

Harvey casually unbuttoned his jacket to sit a little more comfortably. _There. It’s your signal, Mike, and it’s the only one you’re getting so take it or leave it._

A few minutes more passed before Mike spoke. “I don’t believe that you haven’t thought about it.”

 

Harvey swallowed and took his time answering. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to think.”

 

“What do you want to think.” Mike’s voice was just a faint murmur, and Harvey could barely identify it as a question.

 

Mike slid a little further down the couch, his feet still braced against the table. He watched the television through his knees.

 

“I don’t know,” he said. _I want to think that it means you’ve been thinking about doing that for as long as I have, and that you wanted it so bad you couldn’t wait another second to do it._ Then, a little more quietly: “I don’t wanna push it.” There was no point in pretending they were both oblivious, but Harvey wasn’t sure if he could speak in more detail. They’d been down this road before, and they always turned back before it got specific, because that’s where it got harder to turn back.

 

“Why not.” Mike finally tilted his head and looked at Harvey. “You can if you want to.”

 

Harvey’s pulse began rapping at his eardrums so hard he could barely hear the television, which may have been a good thing because it was about the time that the actors started screaming at each other again.

 

No, Harvey wouldn’t push it. He normally didn’t feel guilty when things got like this with Mike now and then, when he started thinking and feeling certain ways that he knew he couldn’t control, but this time he felt _plagued_ by guilt. It almost hurt. If Mike kissing him the week before had nothing to do with current events, then he should have done it another time. Harvey didn’t know what kind of a psychosexual impact unwanted, violent sexual contact had on somebody. He’d never been subject to it and he didn’t want to guess, or pretend like it didn’t affect things. _So fuck you, Mike, for saying that it wasn’t about anything. Fuck you for saying that I can push it. Fuck you for making it so easy to want you._

Harvey reached for the popcorn bowl and put it on the couch between them once more. The barrier method.

 

 _‘I’d do anything if you’d work for me again,’_ said the voice on the television.

Harvey rolled his eyes. Why had he never realized how cliché this film was?

_‘I need you. Things can be the way they were.’_

 

“Seriously, it just came on,” Mike insisted.

 

They sat and pretended to watch the rest of the film in silence. By the time the credits appeared, Harvey was gritting his teeth. At least he got through it. He always got through these strange times with Mike unscathed. It was painfully familiar territory, but it felt different tonight.

 

“Thanks for the popcorn,” Harvey said. He still couldn’t look at Mike.

 

Before he could push himself off the couch he felt a hand on his knee. It completely paralyzed him and kept him frozen on that couch. The gentle touch was practically burning through his clothing and all the way down to the bone. He couldn’t think or move or breathe. That was his signal. It was a big green light, but he couldn’t bear the idea that he could be wrong. Too much had happened to take a risk like this now. It was already risky enough any other time, when things weren’t so tender.

 

“Careful,” Harvey warned. “I don’t know how many more fresh starts I’ve got left in me.”

 

“Well I don’t know how long I can keep pretending I don’t want this.”

 

Harvey finally let himself look over at Mike. “What do you want?” He could see him struggling against the weight of all his secrets and it made Harvey want to lift away everything he could carry.

 

“I want you to kiss me, right now,” Mike stated, clear as a bell. “If that doesn’t work for you, I don’t think it means we have to start all over again, _again_. It just means a more honest co-existence, and that’s good enough for me. I hate lying to you. I’m finished with it.”

 

Harvey was struck by Mike’s frankness. He made it seem easy, and since now there was little doubt that they wanted the same thing, maybe it _could_ be easy. If they could come back from all the mistakes they’d already made, they could come back from this if they had to.

 

The air felt thick and difficult to move through. Harvey reached out for Mike and grazed his knuckles across his cheek before slipping his hand around the back of his neck, a little apprehensive at first, hardly believing that he was getting away with it. He could feel Mike’s pulse against his palm, warm and real, and it made everything else in the world feel still and quiet. He stroked his thumb underneath Mike’s ear, testing the waters, and watched his eyes fall closed. Mike was putting all his trust in Harvey. This couldn’t have been easy for him.

 

A dull rattle told Harvey that the popcorn was spilling, and then the bowl landed on the floor with a thud as they closed the narrow gap in a deep, soft kiss. It was so warm, so delicious, so _wanted_ that Harvey couldn’t stop himself from raking his fingers through Mike’s hair, pulling him deeper. He could feel him all the way down to his toes, his need and his persistence and his goddamn loyalty and desperation and everything about him. His heart soaked every ounce of it up like a sponge until he couldn’t take anymore and had to pull away to get some air and sense back into himself.  

 

“I never didn’t want you,” Harvey panted quietly, the second after their lips parted. “I tried to stop so many times and I couldn’t. I give up. I give up...” Harvey pressed his forehead to Mike’s, his hand still locked around the back of his neck. It killed him that he’d tried to put distance between them because of his own insecurities. He was constantly turning his back on Mike, and Mike was constantly forgiving him.

 

Mike pressed his nose into Harvey’s cheek, pulling in a long, shuddering breath before finding his lips again. The feeling of that smooth mouth was a sigh of relief against his. It felt so easy to give in all of the sudden, as if Harvey had been clenching his fist since they day they met and finally had permission to let go. And how far could he go, really? His every instinct was to push Mike down on his back and consume him, but the tiny little red light in his brain told him to proceed with caution. As much as he wanted to believe that Mike’s incident the week prior had nothing to do with the incident currently unfolding in Mike’s apartment, it would be foolish and irresponsible not to be aware.

 

It was Mike who set the pace, and for that Harvey was grateful. He climbed on top of Harvey, straddling his legs, hands all over his chest and thighs, lips hot and needy. With the younger man on top of him, Harvey gave himself a bit more leeway. He slid his hand underneath Mike’s t-shirt shirt, running his fingertips across the fine hairs on his belly and chest. That could have been enough, knowing what his skin felt like, but Mike was already pulling his shirt up and over his head, and how could Harvey _not_ wrap his arms around his body? How could he _not_ pull him close, bury his face in his neck and run his tongue along his collar bone? His body was smooth and soft and rough and firm in all the right places, and Harvey was already craving more.

 

He meant to say something smart. He meant to stop, as if they still had a chance to pretend it hadn’t happened. He just needed a _little more_ and then he’d have enough, but it wasn’t enough, and Harvey didn’t see how it ever could be. Mike was reciprocating with every touch and sigh and kiss, making it feel less and less possible to turn back. They were both losing themselves in each other, reckless and needy. Harvey could feel his lust whittling away at his sense of control.

 

“Tell me to stop,” Harvey demanded softly against Mike’s cheek, just in case any part of Mike was second guessing himself.

 

Mike’s fingers wrapped around the back of his neck. “Maybe you can stop it now, but I can’t.” His voice was rough and dry, his breath shallow. “I don’t want to.” He pressed his forehead to Harvey’s as his fingers began to deal with the buttons on his shirt. “I want you so bad,” he confessed. “I can’t even remember not wanting you.”

 

Harvey’s head was spinning. “I’m crazy about you. I wanna...”

 

“What?” Mike quickly finished with the buttons on Harvey’s shirt and smoothed it open, running his hands up and down the thin t-shirt underneath. “What do you want to do to me?”

 

Harvey could barely keep his shit together. What his body wanted was to rip off all of Mike’s clothes, pin him down on his bed, blow him, rim him, and fuck his brains out for the next three hours until his throat was too raw to scream. What he _didn’t_ want to do was put an ounce of pressure on him to do anything he wasn’t into. A few small things Mike had told him the week before led him to believe that there was a possibility that Mike was pretty much exclusively involved with women, which was one of a handful of reasons he felt he should handle with care.

 

“I wanna know what you like,” Harvey finally finished. “And what you don’t like,” he added carefully.

 

Mike didn’t answer him right away. Instead, mouth found Harvey’s again. This time there were teeth on his lower lip, tugging gently, then letting go only to drive his wet tongue into Harvey’s. Harvey sucked in a breath through his nose, squeezed his eyes shut and tightened his arms around Mike’s body, digging his fingertips into his scalp and his back.

 

Mike eased his tongue out of Harvey’s mouth reluctantly. “I don’t think I like getting fucked,” he confessed nervously, as if it was the wrong thing to say.

 

“Fine by me,” Harvey told him, relieved to know this sooner rather than later. If that was his only objection, they still had a _lot_ of wiggle room.

 

Mike pulled back just a little to look him in the eyes. “Really?”

 

“Why wouldn’t that by fine by me?” Harvey gave Mike an encouraging, playful half-smile. He slid his hands down his back and into the loose elastic waistband of his flannels. “Anything else I should know?”

 

Mike touched the tip of his nose to Harvey’s and smiled when Harvey squeezed his ass under his pants. “I’m game for anything that doesn’t hurt.”

 

Harvey had to refrain from telling Mike that he wouldn’t hurt him if he fucked him, because the second he communicated that he wasn’t interested, it was off the table. Plain and simple. He also had to remind himself that Mike was a grown man who had bounced back and healed from all kinds of pain in his life. It still wasn’t easy to hear him specify that he didn’t want to be hurt. That was supposed to go without saying.

 

Harvey slid his hands back up out of Mike’s pants, moving one across his chest, teasing a nipple delicately with his fingertips. “I want you naked in your bed.”

 

“I want you naked in my bed, too.”

 

Mike didn’t let Harvey get up right away. He pushed the jacket and shirt over his shoulders and began stripping the t-shirt off of him the second Harvey had freed his arms of his other clothes. When they were both half naked, skin on skin, it wasn’t easy to let go of him long enough to get to the bed. He let Mike tear himself away but kept his hand locked around his arm. Harvey pulled him in close again when they were both on their feet, kissing him deeply as he guided him backwards around the couch and across the small space to the bed. With a little teamwork, Harvey’s belt and shoes were left behind.

 

The little nook of Mike’s bedroom was darker, sheltered from the glaring light of the television. Mike fell back onto the mattress and pulled Harvey with him, each oblivious to the gravity shift of vertical to horizontal, totally absorbed in each other. Harvey rolled onto his back and pulled Mike on top of him, trying to keep the younger man in control of the pace, but Mike didn’t seem concerned with taking it slow. An eager hand opened the button and zipper of Harvey’s pants and slid in to feel him through his underwear.

 

Harvey groaned and pushed up against the hand. He was so hard it hurt, and he could see through the flannel pyjamas that Mike was in the same boat.

 

“I didn’t think you were a boxer guy,” Mike observed, leaning in close as he shifted and slid his hand down past the elastic of Harvey’s underwear.

 

“Sorry to blow your mind,” Harvey muttered against Mike’s lips.

 

The warm hand in his underwear wrapped around Harvey’s aching flesh. He trapped a moan in the back of his throat, trying to hold himself together while Mike’s fingers moved across his sensitive skin. Mike ducked his head and pressed his tongue underneath Harvey’s chin, forcing the deep groan out from between his lips. He couldn’t hold back any longer.

 

Harvey pulled Mike’s hand out of his boxers and flipped him onto his back. Mike’s hands were all over him, pulling him closer. Harvey devoured his mouth, deep and hungry, as their stiff cocks rubbed together through the clothes that they were both still wearing. Mike was already losing it, whimpering and moaning into Harvey’s mouth, eyes closed, hands locking onto his body wherever they could. Harvey could barely take it. It was too much, but he was starving for more.

 

Harvey shifted further down Mike’s writhing body. He kissed his neck, circled his tongue around a nipple, dragged the tip of his nose down the centre of his abdomen, and placed another kiss below his belly button when his chin touched the soft fabric of his pants. Mike’s hands were clutching at him desperately now, fingers in his hair, nails raking his shoulders.

 

Harvey nudged his nose against the hard bulge in Mike’s pyjamas, loving the way it made Mike’s breath quicken and his hips rock more persistently. The second he dipped his fingers into the waistband, Mike lifted his hips so that Harvey could strip him quickly and easily. Harvey barely got Mike’s pants halfway down his thighs before he couldn’t help but to turn all of his attention towards Mike’s perfect, silky cock, unbelievably hard without being touched. He wrapped a hand around him and teased the head gently with his lips before ducking lower, pressing his tongue to his balls and dragging it all the way up to the tip again.

 

Mike was swearing and begging uncontrollably, his cock pulsing, twitching and leaking in Harvey’s hand. Harvey had never been so turned on in all his life. He gave him another long, wet lick, being generous with his saliva, and when he reached the tip of his cock he slid his lips over the head, moving his hand down as he took Mike deep into his mouth.

 

Mike’s breath hitched and his hands trembled against Harvey’s shoulders. Harvey thought for a second that he was going to come and it would be over, but he didn’t.

 

Mike drew in just enough air to whisper, “ _Yes._ ”

 

Harvey closed his eyes and let his tongue, lips and hands take care of everything. He reached up to flatten one palm against Mike’s stomach while the other worked at the base of his cock. He teased him for a while with his lips and tongue, licking and kissing, tasting his precome, until finally he couldn’t stop himself from filling his mouth again. He dropped his head over and over, loving the way Mike’s cock felt sliding over his tongue and bumping against the back of this throat. His voice was like a drug, his encouraging whispers and moans making Harvey lightheaded and hungry for more. He heard his name slipping repeatedly from Mike’s tongue until finally he quieted, sucking in a sharp breath, his abdominals tightening under Harvey’s steady hand. The hands at Harvey’s shoulders pushed him away before it was too late.

 

Harvey wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, nowhere near ready to stop. He would give Mike anything he wanted, and he didn’t want to stop giving for so much as a second. It felt _so_ good making him feel good. In a sort of twisted way, he felt like he owed him.

 

Mike pushed himself up onto his elbows. He was flushed, panting heavily. “Take your fucking pants off,” Mike instructed hastily between heaving breaths as he finished stripping the flannel from his legs.

 

Harvey felt a little unsteady as he slid off the bed and landed on his feet. He quickly stripped his socks off first, then pushed his pants and underwear down his legs, barely having stepped out of them before Mike’s hands were on his arm, pulling him back onto the mattress.

 

“You get me so hot,” Mike groaned, opening his knees as he sat in front of Harvey, who mirrored the action. “You don’t know how it makes me feel when you look at me. When you touch me. Not just now. All the time.”

 

“It’s hard not to look,” Harvey admitted, meeting Mike’s eyes. There were times when he literally couldn’t keep his eyes off Mike. Sometimes he’d catch himself, and sometimes he’d feel someone else notice first and quickly turn his attention to someone else. But now they were alone. He didn’t have to look away. Harvey never wanted to let him out of his sight or his grasp again.

 

Harvey got himself comfortable between Mike’s knees as they hooked their legs around each other, sitting as close as possible. Harvey slid his hands up from Mike’s knees to his hips, holding tight. He’d let the younger man make the next move.

 

Mike ran a hand across Harvey’s chest while he looked at his body, and Harvey _loved_ the way Mike’s eyes felt all over him, admiring him unapologetically. Giving themselves permission to ignore the line between personal and professional was almost as exciting as deliberately crossing it.

 

“I forgot to ask if you’re into guys,” Mike realized with amusement, now that they were sitting together naked on Mike’s bed.

 

Harvey let himself smile. “Some more than others.” They’d both dropped enough subtle hints over the past several months, but there was sometimes only a barely-detectable line between sarcasm, flirtation, and real emotions.

 

“I was on the fence about you for a long time,” said Harvey. All the girl drama made Mike a difficult person to get a read on. “But you do have knack for adapting...” Harvey grinned and touched his lips to Mike’s neck.

 

“I’m on the fence about me, too.” Mike let out a short laugh. “But if I wasn’t adaptable then I don’t think there’s any way in hell I would have been able to—” He cut himself short.

 

Harvey’s nerves chilled for just a second but he tried not to let it get to him. When he sat back again he could see that Mike was still hard, feel that his skin still warm, his heart still thudding strong and wild inside his chest, his hands still holding on to Harvey. A week really wasn’t that long, though.

 

“Nevermind,” Mike whispered, dropping his gaze shuffling a little closer to Harvey to fight the distance threatening to expand between them.

 

Harvey brought Mike’s face up to his and looked him in the eyes. “Don’t pretend it didn’t happen,” he told him. It was on both their minds and refusing to acknowledge it wasn’t going to help.

 

“I’m not pretending. I think about it _all the time,_ ” Mike confessed. “I just don’t want you to see me that way. I know you’re thinking about it too, Harvey. I wish it didn’t matter to you.”

 

Harvey didn’t know what to say. The way he felt about Mike in that moment was different than how he’d felt about anyone else he’d been with. He felt more possessive, more protective, more responsible, _more_ in general... but he didn’t know how much of that was just Mike and how much of that was what Mike had been through.  It seemed like what he needed most was to feel wanted, not coddled, and Harvey could give him that. He could sense Mike’s embarrassment welling up and saw his shoulders tense, so he wrapped his arm around those shoulders and brought him in for a kiss, unsure of what else to do.

 

Mike poured himself into Harvey’s kiss gratefully, moaning with relief. He only broke away from Harvey’s mouth to spit in his palm and bring it to Harvey’s attention-starved cock. Harvey groaned as felt himself hardening again in Mike’s eager, slippery hand. The hand disappeared as Mike stroked himself for a few seconds, wetting his own cock with the saliva and precome on his fingers, then took Harvey’s hand and placed it in his lap.

 

He squeezed Mike’s cock, feeling him twitch and swell. Mike dropped his forehead to Harvey’s shoulder with a delicious hum of satisfaction and returned his hand to Harvey. They stroked each other urgently and almost clumsily at first, but very quickly their wrists began sliding together in a tempo that they both locked into. Soon their hands slowed to a steady but purposeful rhythm.

 

Mike whimpered into Harvey’s shoulder, rocking against him, holding on tight. “It feels _so good_ ,” he whispered. “Holy fuck...”

 

“Yeah, keep doing that,” Harvey agreed with a shaken pant. His entire body was throbbing with pleasure and need. Even his hand was practically orgasmic at the feeling of Mike’s slick, firm flesh sliding against his palm. Rocking together, fucking each other’s hands, mirroring each other’s strokes with every twist of their crossed wrists... it didn’t seem they could get any closer. It was better than good. It was synchronized bliss.

 

Harvey brought his free hand to the back of Mike’s head, holding him there against his shoulder when he felt him shaking. It was the same shoulder that Mike was clinging to. He could feel how desperate Mike was getting, and how close he must have been. Harvey was getting there, too. He briefly let go of Mike’s cock to wet his palm with his tongue, not bothering to ask Mike if he had any lube because he didn’t want to let him go long enough to retrieve it. When he put his hand back, he upped the tempo. Mike cried out softly and dug his fingertips even harder into Harvey’s shoulder, his body tensing up while his throat opened to rattle out even more moans and whimpers.

 

Harvey turned his face into Mike’s hair and closed his eyes, breathing him in. “Do you want to come in my hand or in my mouth?” There were other options but they were both too close to the edge broach them now. He wanted so badly to hear and feel Mike climax that he couldn’t try to hold it off any longer.

 

“Like this – _yeah_ – like this... don’t let me go. Please.”

 

“I’m not letting go,” Harvey promised, rubbing him faster, feeling Mike do the same. “I need you.”

 

“I’m yours,” Mike confided softly, and Harvey liked the way that sounded.

 

Suddenly Mike’s hand flew off Harvey’s cock as he threw his arm around his neck, clinging to him for dear life. He moaned desperately into Harvey’s shoulder, freezing up all over a moment as he teetered right at the edge – “ _Harvey!” –_ and then tipped over, raking his nails across Harvey’s back, sobbing into his neck, trembling uncontrollably as he emptied himself over Harvey’s hand and abdomen.

 

Total satisfaction and pleasure welled up inside Harvey’s body as Mike writhed against him. Despite his neglected cock, he shared Mike’s abandon, groaning and rocking with him, toes curling, holding him tight as they melted together.

 

Eventually Mike stopped trying to keep himself upright, and Harvey let him slump back onto the mattress. His cheeks were red, eyelashes and hairline damp, kiss-swollen lips parted to make way for the sighs that rose and fell from between them. He looked totally relieved and cathartic, and as Harvey knelt over him looking down at his expression, he couldn’t think of anything else he’d enjoy more than seeing Mike this relaxed, happy and satisfied. He’d never seen it before, and he knew he’d want to see him this way again.

 

With one hand still gently wrapped around Mike’s wet, softening cock, Harvey used his dry hand to stroke Mike’s chest, up and down, smoothing the erratic heartbeat inside his spent body.

 

Mike yawned, and then looked up into Harvey’s eyes with a gentle moan and a soft, lazy smile – a smile that Harvey couldn’t help returning. Mike’s hand moved across Harvey’s thigh and brushed his cock with his fingertips, but Harvey removed his hand from Mike’s chest to take his wrist and pin it to the bed.

 

“You’re not done,” Mike protested weakly with his words, though the hand pinned to the bed made no effort to free itself.

 

“I don’t care,” said Harvey. He was still throbbing and hot, but he was so taken by watching and feeling Mike slip into a warm blanket of afterglow that he didn’t want to interrupt it. It stimulated him in a different way. There was something to be said for _stopping_ once in a while.

 

Mike blinked a few times, seeming to evaluate his lover’s decision to forego climax. Then he looked down to Harvey’s wet hand and stomach. He pulled his wrist free of Harvey’s mild grip and swiped his hand through Harvey’s come-streaked stomach, in turn, smearing it onto his own. Harvey watched in curiosity with a protest on the tip of his tongue as Mike peeled Harvey’s hand from his cock, then pressed the wet, sticky fingers to Mike’s thigh, where he wiped the front and back of Harvey’s hand off on him.

 

“I’m getting in the shower,” Mike explained lazily.

 

“Not yet.”

 

For nearly an hour they kissed and touched each other lazily, drifting in and out of sleep without a sliver of a thought paid to work, politics, responsibility, consequences... it was just the two of them, alone together. It was simple. Harvey had spent months trying to convince himself that it was complicated, but now he couldn’t remember a single reason.

 

Harvey was just dozing off again with Mike’s head tucked under his chin when he felt the younger man wake and yawn once more, pulling Harvey’s arms more tightly around him. A warm hand wrapped around his and tugged gently.

 

“Let’s go get clean,” Mike suggested.

 

Harvey could feel the dry, tacky mess on both of their hands and knew it was a good idea, even though it meant letting go for a few minutes. He just hoped that neither of them would come to their senses in the meantime.

 

They both rolled out of bed reluctantly. Harvey followed Mike across the apartment to his bathroom and neither of them really acknowledged the popcorn spilled across the couch and floor.

 

“We’ve only got about 10 minutes of hot water so save some for me,” Mike said as he flicked on the bathroom light, then nudged Harvey into the shower.

 

Harvey pulled Mike in with him. “We’d better be resourceful,” he suggested sternly. He still hadn’t had enough of him, amazed by how easy it was to wrap the man up in his arms, wondering exactly how long ago Mike had given him permission. He seemed equally willing and eager to be held.

 

Mike smiled against Harvey’s chest and reached behind him to turn the water on.

 

The first modification Harvey had made to his own apartment was installing a wide overhead shower. He also had all the hot water he wanted. He tried to think of Mike’s tiny low-flow shower nozzle and outdated tile as _vintage_ and _quaint_. Why Mike still hadn’t upgraded his lifestyle now that he had the means to do so was still a mystery.

 

Harvey got under the stream first, quickly rinsing his skin off under the water. Mike was soaping up his hair with a shampoo that Harvey already recognized as a part of Mike’s scent, and when he handed Harvey the bottle, he did the same. Then he wrapped his arm around Mike’s waist and scooped him around underneath the stream of water, running his fingers through his short hair to work out a few lingering suds.

 

Mike’s head fell back against Harvey’s shoulder, closing his eyes to the uneven spray of the showerhead. He handed a bar of soap to Harvey, which he rubbed against Mike’s chest and shoulders, slowly lathering his skin with his other hand. His fingers roamed across Mike’s wet, slippery chest, shoulders, arms, hips, thighs. Then, pushing him forward, Harvey soaped his neck, working his hands all the way down his back and between his legs. Another flare of arousal gripped him at the feeling of Mike’s tight, wet hole as he swept his soapy finger past it, stopping himself before he lingered too long.

 

A hand on his wrist stilled him. Mike braced his other hand against the tile wall and leaned forward into it, holding Harvey’s hand steady behind him. He lined up their fingers and pushed.

 

Harvey closed his eyes for a few seconds, suddenly regretting not letting Mike get him off before, because he was already hard as hell again. He wanted to ask what Mike wanted from this, but if he took it slow he knew Mike would let him know if he was going too far. So he let Mike slide his middle finger up and down between his soapy buttocks, circling his anus, and pressing only when Mike’s guiding hand encouraged him to. Just a little more pressure and his fingertip inched inside.

 

Mike moaned softly, his voice sounding vaguely distorted trapped between the tile walls and water. Harvey froze but the hand on his didn’t let him pull away. Instead, Mike pushed Harvey’s finger in deeper before letting go to brace his hand next to the first one on the tile wall, arching his back and pushing harder against Harvey’s hand.

 

Harvey let the soap bar fall to the floor and slide towards the drain, reaching around to find Mike becoming erect again. It justified his own arousal and shattered the sliver of worry prodding at his conscience that Mike was doing what he thought he was _supposed_ to do. Harvey slid his finger out and back in very slowly, only a couple of inches, gently stroking Mike’s cock with his other hand. He paid very careful attention for any signals to stop or slow down. Instead, Mike moaned once more and inched his legs a little further apart, as much as the narrow space would allow.

 

Harvey withdrew his finger.

 

“I like it,” Mike protested, looking back over his shoulder, water streaming over his face. “You can keep going a little more if you want.”

 

Harvey bit his lip. What he _really_ wanted was to hear Mike ask for what he wanted directly. He seemed a little uncertain, which made Harvey apprehensive. He also knew that getting fucked without the proper care could put someone out of commission for more than a week, but for Mike’s sake he didn’t want to bring up the incident again.

 

Harvey rubbed his finger between Mike’s buttocks a little more, watching the water rush over the curves and angles of his shoulders and back as the muscles flexed and eased. Then he wrapped his hands around Mike’s parted thighs and sank to his knees. He ran his hands back up to Mike’s ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh until Mike was moaning softly again, before pressing his tongue to his perineum. Mike jolted a little with a whimper but relaxed the moment Harvey reached around to touch his cock again. As he slid his fingers loosely up and down Mike’s shaft, Harvey wiggled his tongue all the way up to the top of his cleft, slightly soapy water running past his tongue and lips.

 

“Do it again.” Mike dropped his head, sighing heavily.

 

Harvey did do it again, and again, and again. He delivered several long laps past Mike’s hole before concentrating the tip of his tongue on small, persistent circles around the rim. In no time, Mike was rolling his hips and reaching back to run his fingers through Harvey’s wet hair, keeping him close. Mike was groaning softly with every breath, his cock firm and eager in Harvey’s hand.

 

 _“Stop,”_ Mike whimpered reluctantly.

 

Harvey let go. “Are you okay?” Harvey stood and wiped some water from his eyes.

 

The faucet screeched when Mike twisted it. “Water’s getting cold,” he explained as the shower went dry, turning to Harvey. “I like what you’re doing.” Mike ran his hands up Harvey’s chest. “A lot.”

 

Harvey exhaled in relief and arousal as Mike wrapped his arms around his waist, their hard cocks pressing together. He hadn’t even noticed that they were running out of heat. He hoped the hot water tank had enough stamina to be ready for them again before morning, because there was good a chance they’d need it.

 

Harvey pulled out of Mike’s embrace when he finally noticed a chill on his damp skin. He stepped out of the shower and grabbed the first towel he saw. He wrapped it around Mike’s waist, snaring him, and pulled him close again. Their body heat immediately stole the goosebumps from his skin. Mike was smiling against his lips in the most delicious way. Harvey couldn’t help tugging gently at Mike’s lower lip with his teeth while tightening the towel around his waist, bringing their bodies closer together.

 

Mike suddenly froze up and turned his head away.  He wasn’t smiling anymore.

 

“What is it?” Harvey wasn’t sure what he’d done.

 

“Still a bit sore.” Mike ran his tongue along his lower lip, hugging his towel more tightly around himself.

 

Harvey recalled the cut lip and felt another chill at the thought of someone being so reckless with Mike’s body. If Mike’s lip was still sore even after healing, whether literally or as a painful reminder, then maybe the rest of him still needed more time to heal, too. He hoped the pain wouldn’t persist much longer. Neither of them needed a reminder.

 

Mike found Harvey another towel and they both dried off quickly and wordlessly. Their hands never left each other completely as they returned to Mike’s bed, stepping over Harvey’s shoes. He considered hanging up his clothes because he didn’t have anything else to wear in the morning, but then Mike snatched something from his dresser and slapped it in Harvey’s hand, redirecting his thoughts.

 

Harvey’s thumb automatically flipped the lid by muscle memory, making his dick throb in a conditioned response to the pop of the plastic cap. He settled onto the bed with Mike, crawling on top of him between his open knees.

 

“Use your fingers,” Mike requested a little shyly, but sincerely. He moved his hips slowly against Harvey’s.

 

“Use them how?” Harvey kept his tone soft and playful, but he wanted absolute confirmation. This wasn’t an _anything goes_ encounter, even if the lube in his hand was a pretty clear indicator.

 

Mike gave him an impatient look, like Harvey already knew the answer. “It feels really good when you do it,” he told him. “Do it again.”

 

That was probably clear enough, and _fuck_ Harvey wanted to feel that body wrapped snugly around his – any part of him, it didn’t matter. Harvey pushed himself up and sat back between Mike’s legs. He squeezed a little bit of lube onto his fingers, first wrapping them around Mike’s cock with a few encouraging strokes, then around his own, then between Mike’s legs. He pressed his fingertips to his anus, rubbing up and down very gently at first, and then firmly, holding Mike’s cock in the other hand.

 

“Please.” Mike pulled his knees up higher, his abdominals tightening.

 

Harvey tucked his hand under Mike’s knee and flipped him over on his stomach, relieving the need for Mike to engage any of his muscles. He looked so painfully fuckable with his legs sprawled apart on either side of Harvey’s knees, lifting his butt up for attention, one hand clasping the top of the headboard and the other twisting a fist into his pillow. Harvey bit his lip and smoothed a hand across the small of Mike’s back, pressing him down into the mattress, urging him to relax as much as possible. When he felt him give, with his hand still planted on Mike’s back, Harvey brushed his fingers across his smooth ass. He massaged and rubbed him, bringing his fingers a little closer to his center, inch by inch, until finally his middle finger swept across his tight, slippery hole.

 

“ _Come on_ ,” Mike whispered into his pillow.

 

Harvey pushed forward gently, allowing Mike’s body to slowly encase his finger in his snug warmth. Muscles fluttered around his finger a little at first, but with a deep sigh Mike relaxed into his mattress and slackened just a little around Harvey’s finger.

 

Harvey could barely stand to see Mike’s body swallowing up his finger, a picture right out of his fantasies, but he couldn’t look away. He picked up the lube and squeezed a few more drops just above Mike’s hole, feeling it leak down over his finger as he withdrew and pressed into him again. Mike sucked in a sharp breath, and when he exhaled he bent one knee a little higher against the mattress, opening himself up even more to Harvey’s touch. He was so responsive, gasping at every small twist and thrust of his finger, rocking his hips to take him deeper within just a minute or two.

 

When he could slip his finger in and out with perfect ease, Harvey pressed the pads of two of his fingers against him and rubbed slowly but firmly, letting Mike feel the second digit so that he could object or adjust as needed. Mike just lifted his hips higher, which gave Harvey the opportunity to reach around and massage his hard cock as he _very slowly_ began to sink both fingers into his body.

 

Mike froze up but didn’t clench. He was panting softly, his cock still rock hard and throbbing in Harvey’s hand. He wanted so badly to replace his fingers with his cock, if for no other reason than to touch more of him.

 

“That’s good,” Harvey whispered, letting Mike adjust to the sensation.

 

“Do you wanna fuck me?” Mike asked, his voice was breathy and shallow.

 

 _Is that a rhetorical question?_ “Only if you like how it feels,” Harvey asserted, twisting his fingers inside as he watched Mike twist his into his pillow, in turn. How it felt was almost as much psychological as it was physical. Some men took a little more mental preparation than others.

 

“I love it – what you’re doing – I....” Mike thrust into Harvey’s hand with a whimper, his body unwilling to pause for conversation. “Do it. Keep going.”

 

Harvey nodded, even though Mike couldn’t see the gesture, and twisted his hand palm-down, rubbing his fingers against Mike’s prostate. The way his body gently writhed and contracted at the sensation was almost enough to drive Harvey out of his mind with need.

 

“That’s really, really, really, really, _really_ good,” Mike groaned. “Keep going slow...”

 

“I will,” Harvey promised, stroking Mike’s cock and his prostate in the same slow, easy rhythm. “We’ve got all night.”

 

Mike’s breath was coming in and out with broken, shuddering gasps and pants. He finally managed to collect his bearings long enough to utter the words: “Fuck me.” There was a note of uncertainty in his voice mingled with desperation.

 

Harvey closed his eyes a moment, determined not to rush. He wouldn’t simply forget that Mike had told him earlier that night that he didn’t like getting fucked. Regardless of the frequency or quality of previous experiences possible serving as a poor gauge, maybe it just wasn’t his thing. Harvey couldn’t bear the possibility of causing doubt or pain.

 

“I will,” Harvey repeated, accepting that those plans could change. “Not until you’re good and loose for me,” he added, moving the length of his fingers in and out with much more ease now.

 

“I know you won’t hurt me,” Mike said softly as he pushed his ass higher up into the air again, rocking back onto his knees. “You make it _so fucking good_...”

 

“I wanna be good for you.” It took every ounce of Harvey’s will to maintain a slow, steady rhythm with his hands, and to keep breathing. He was aching all over, dying to get closer, to go faster, and to let his body’s impulses take over his emotional instincts. The restraint drove him mad, but it was worth it.

 

“You _are_ , you are _so_ good for me, Harvey,” Mike moaned softly, propping himself fully onto his knees, inching them apart even further.

 

“I _could_ be...” For Harvey, it went beyond sex, and that’s the part where Mike’s confidence in him ached the most. He wanted to be good for Mike in all the ways that he’d failed him before. He wanted to be there for him, to help him, to protect him. He wanted to hold him.

 

Harvey slowly withdrew his two fingers and grabbed the lube again, slicking up a third. “Can you take more?”

 

“I’ll do any fucking thing, Harvey, I want it all.”

 

Harvey believed him, and it felt good. He removed his hand from Mike’s cock to run his palm up his belly and chest, urging him upright onto his knees. Mike let go of the pillow and the headboard to brace his back against Harvey’s chest. This way, when Harvey rubbed three fingers against Mike’s slick anus, he had the luxury of kissing him. All it took was a touch of his lips to Mike’s cheek for his boy to turn his head and press their mouths together. It was second nature now, but the feeling was just as astonishingly arousing each and every time.

 

Harvey dipped his two fingers into Mike’s body again, a soft pant bursting out against his mouth as he did so. Content with how smoothly he entered him, Harvey very carefully pushed a third finger inside next to the first two.

 

Mike’s hand cupped his face, drawing him into a much deeper kiss, sucking Harvey’s tongue into his mouth as Harvey slid all three fingers inside as deep as he could. He held his hand still and returned his other hand to Mike’s cock, relieved to feel he was still rock-hard. Mike’s lips, tongue and teeth assaulted Harvey’s mouth in a quiet desperation as the fingers inside stretched him gently.

 

Mike’s lips broke away from Harvey’s in a harsh pant, grasping at the hand on his cock. “Don’t make me come yet,” he pleaded.

 

“How do you want to come?” Harvey released Mike’s cock and wove his fingers between Mike’s.

 

Mike slipped his hand out of Harvey’s and reached back to find what he wanted.

 

Harvey’s head fell back with a groan at the feeling of Mike’s fingers on his leaking, throbbing erection once more. With his fingers buried deep inside Mike’s body and Mike’s hand tugging desperately at his cock, it seemed like they both needed the same thing.

 

“Answer me,” Harvey whispered, catching Mike’s earlobe between his teeth.

 

“I wanna look at you while we do it,” Mike responded, his voice unsteady but very certain now. His hand on Harvey’s cock matched the slowly escalating rhythm inside him. “Fuck me so I can see you. Keep going slow like this.”

 

“Anything you want,” said Harvey, meaning it. He twisted his fingers again to wring an incredible, needy sob from Mike’s lips. “Nothing you don’t want.”

 

Mike nodded. “I’ve never wanted this before,” he admitted. “Everything’s different with you.”

 

Harvey turned his face into Mike’s hair and closed his eyes. “You too.” He understood completely.

 

Harvey worked his fingers inside carefully for a few more minutes, trying to open him up without wearing him out. After he very, _very_ slowly withdrew again, hearing the breath catch in Mike’s throat, he slid his middle finger back in. It went in smooth and easy this time. No resistance. Mike was where he needed to be.

 

The moment he withdrew his finger, Mike let go of Harvey’s cock and stretched across the bed to his night table. Harvey kept a steady hand on his thigh as he watched Mike rummage through a bit of clutter before finally finding what he was looking for. He rolled onto his back and tore open the condom wrapper.

 

“If something doesn’t feel right, you tell me.” Harvey took the condom and rolled it on, painfully conscious that Mike may still have been healing. Then he leaned forward, slipping a hand behind Mike’s neck, never tiring of the way his eager lips felt and tasted. “You’re allowed to change your mind,” he reminded him when their lips parted. _You don’t have anything to prove to me, Mike._

“So are you,” Mike assured him with a smile playing at his lips. There wasn’t a hint of concern anywhere on his face or in his voice. “You have no idea how much I need this.”

 

Harvey felt a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, too. He no longer had any doubts in his mind. Mike knew what he wanted. He wasn’t telling Harvey what he thought he wanted to hear, although Harvey _definitely_ did like hearing the things he had to say.

 

After generously coating himself with lube, wiping the excess on Mike’s persistent erection, Harvey leaned forward and guided Mike’s legs around his thighs. He gently tongued and kissed Mike’s neck and shoulder, giving his cock a few strokes before taking himself into his hand. Mike’s fingertips raked desperately through his damp hair and across his back as Harvey pressed himself forward slowly and carefully.

 

When he felt Mike open to him, _just_ a little, he pressed their mouths together again in a hungry kiss. Despite having sufficiently relaxed his muscles, Mike felt impossibly tight around him. It was dizzying. Mike sucked and nibbled at his lip and tongue desperately, but paused breathlessly when Harvey slid in another inch. Mike’s hands rushed down to Harvey’s thighs, stilling him.

 

Harvey was about to pull away, to stop at the first yellow light he hit, when Mike leaned up and kissed him again, wrapping his hands around the back of his thighs. He pulled him all the way, smooth and easy, a broken moan – almost a _laugh –_ vibrating from the base of his throat against Harvey’s lips.

 

Harvey didn’t move at first, both of them trying to catch the breath they didn’t realize they’d been holding. Mike’s body was still all but for his pounding heart, heaving chest, throbbing cock and twitching muscles knotted around Harvey. He could feel Mike quietly bursting with sensation under and around him.

 

“It doesn’t hurt,” Mike breathed, half in surprise and half in reassurance.

 

“Good.” Harvey ran his fingers through Mike’s hair. “I never want to hurt you again.” Harvey’s nerves were a mess, a few strands of grief wrapping around the searing pleasure coursing through every vein in his body.

 

Mike blinked his big, wet eyes and nodded. He touched Harvey’s jaw and brought their lips together again.

 

Harvey didn’t move his hips again until their tongues were touching, both sucking in air through their noses. He drew out and slid back inside so slowly that Mike strangled out something between a sob, a cry and a laugh. The sound incredibly satisfying but made him yearn even more deeply, so he did it again. He’d never been with a man who was so sensitive and responsive, who wanted to take it slow and savour every movement to its fullest. And he’d never been with someone he’d wanted for so long without having. The stakes were so high that sometimes he really thought he would have to hold off forever, but _fuck_ did it feel right to give in. He found himself helplessly absorbed in every breath, every kiss, every flex of every muscle under his touch. He was obsessed.

 

“ _Oh fuck-fuck-fuck_ ,” Mike panted quietly as Harvey drew out.

 

Harvey’s lips traced his jaw and parted at his chin, sliding back up to Mike’s open mouth before he drove his tongue and his cock back into him just as slow and deep as before. A scream nearly bubbled up out of Mike’s throat but Harvey’s tongue muffled his cry before it escaped into the room. The sensation quietly materialized itself as tears, squeezing out through the corners of his eyes, wetting Harvey’s thumb where he cupped his face. The tears didn’t concern him, because Mike’s hips were rolling eagerly against his, his cock still hard in his hand, fingertips digging into him with unbridled urgency.

 

Harvey broke the kiss to catch his breath. When he looked down at Mike, a dull ache gripped his chest. There was so much to say to him that he couldn’t put into words and didn’t want to. He just hoped that he understood. The look in his eyes, bearing deep into Harvey’s, told him that Mike understood everything.

 

Contrary to his fantasies, constructing new ones, Harvey fucked Mike slow and easy, even though it almost drove him out of his mind. Every couple of minutes Mike begged him not to do anything differently, so Harvey had neither sped up nor slowed down. Mike watched him the whole time, concentrating fully on every sensation, gasping and sighing voicelessly until his breathing became laboured. Even when Mike pulled his knees up closer to his chest, curling his toes in the air, squeezing his eyes shut, trembling on the cusp of an orgasm, Harvey never once changed his pace. He let it happen on its own time. And when Mike’s entire body rattled with a devastating orgasm, Harvey kept going, slow and steady, wringing it all out of him, watching and feeling him quietly fall apart in his arms.

 

Mike was still groaning softly, slack-jawed, pulsing around Harvey, his cock emptying the last drops of come onto his belly, when Harvey was blindsided by an unexpectedly powerful climax that shocked him to the bone. He moved through his orgasm at the same pace, fighting his instincts to increase his tempo. Instead, he embraced the all-encompassing freedom that the restraint delivered, drowning in Mike’s pleasure, contentedly sinking to the very bottom of it where he found his own drawn-out release. He savoured it.

 

They were both clutching each other so hard that soon their arms and legs began to weaken and tremble, and it was time to let go. Harvey pressed an exhausted kiss beneath Mike’s jaw and slowly began to withdraw.

 

“Don’t,” Mike begged weakly, his legs stubbornly locked around Harvey’s. “Don’t fucking go. Harvey. Please...”

 

Harvey paused and hung his head, still clutching echo of his climax. Mike was holding him so tight, shaking so hard, that Harvey might have been about to start worrying if he hadn’t just been drained of every ounce of tension he could carry. He could experience little other than tranquility.

 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Harvey promised as he carefully finished withdrawing. “I mean it.”

 

= = =

 

When Harvey woke, he squeezed his eyes shut against the light. The sun was warm and strong. He must have slept in. He rolled over and blindly grasped at the end table for his phone, but it wasn’t there. Then the reality hit him and he realized that he was in Mike Ross’ apartment. In his bed. He sat up against the headboard and waited for the regret or panic to kick in, but it didn’t. He felt unusually calm. Running his eyes over his body and the linens, he was pretty impressed with himself for the meticulous clean-up he’d performed in the dark with a few tissues. Not bad at all.

 

Mike wasn’t in bed with him. He was sitting at the kitchen table at his laptop, clicking away. Harvey was of the newspaper generation, himself. He wasn’t pleased that he’d slept in longer than his host and pushed himself out of bed. He managed to recover his pants and boxers, pulling them on lazily before crossing the apartment to gather the rest of his clothes.

 

Mike’s head darted up when Harvey walked past him into the living room, throwing Mike a barely-detectable sideways glance. His blonde hair was a mess (the guy needed to stop giving his money to the local barber shop) and he was back in the jammies.

 

“We’re having coffee and bananas for breakfast,” Mike told him apologetically, turning his attention back to his computer screen to give Harvey a little privacy.

 

Harvey was a little amused by the “we” Mike threw out there, but he kind of liked it so he kept the ball rolling. “We’re going out for breakfast,” he corrected, noting a tiny smile that Mike tried to keep to himself.

 

He found the rest of his clothes rumpled in a mess of popcorn on the couch and immediately regretted not taking a few seconds the night before. “Mike, you got popcorn all over the damn place,” he chided as he pulled his t-shirt on. Now he regretted his promise of a breakfast out. He looked like a slob and probably smelled like the floor of a movie theatre. But Mike would surely know of a decent little greasy-spoon where he wouldn’t feel judged.

 

“Harvey.”

 

“Where the hell did I put...?” Harvey’s eyes swept across the floor but his belt was nowhere to be seen.

 

“ _Harvey._ ”

 

Harvey glanced up and saw Mike giving his laptop an odd stare. “Come look at this.”

 

Harvey went to sit at the table opposite Mike and slid the laptop around to see what was going on. It wasn’t a _Puppy of the Week_ photo, which tended to grace Harvey’s inbox without explanation every couple of weeks. It was an article on a news blog. Even before he read the headline, a name in the first paragraph leapt out at him.

 

Harvey’s eyes darted up to meet Mike’s. His expression was somewhere between apprehensive, shocked and amused.

 

Harvey turned back to the article.

                                  

_Jonathan Kendall, 39, is currently facing charges of soliciting sex with a minor, disseminating obscene material to a minor, and may also be charged with possession of child pornography in light of new evidence. Although Randall initially pleaded ‘not guilty’, he is expected to re-evaluate the plea after a recent witness report.  Bruce Elmes, a waiter at LaGuardia Airport, where the alleged incident occurred, told reporters:_

_‘I saw that kid with an older guy at the bar. I figured it was his dad and I didn’t think much of it until I read about what happened in the paper. The guy tried to order the kid a drink. I asked for his ID and the kid himself told me not to bother because he was only 17. The other guy was sitting right there, there’s no way he didn’t hear that kid state his age.’_

_The incident in the public restroom occurred after they left the airport bar, prompting the victim to seek the assistance of airport security._

_The victim was re-interviewed to corroborate the witness account, during which time he admitted that in addition to being offered money for a sexual act, he was shown pornographic images on Kendall’s cellphone of boys who appeared to be underage but have yet to be identified. Police have seized the device and are working to determine the age of the individuals in the photos, which appear to have been taken with the phone. Kendall will face a litany of child porn-related charges if police determine that the individuals in the photos are underage, although the obscenity charge will be upheld regardless._

_In 2010, Kendall was acquitted from charges of extortion, harassment and assault._

“Holy shit.” Harvey looked back up at Mike, who was still sitting there slack-jawed. 

 

“Read the comments, they’re awesome.” Mike actually smiled. “He’s so fucked.”

 

Harvey shut the laptop. “What goes around comes around.”

 

He wasn’t sure what he should be feeling. Harvey wanted to be the one to snare the bastard, but he’d done it to himself. Thank god the kid at the airport had the sense to _do_ something about it before Kendall got on his plane. In the end, this would probably get him put away even longer than Harvey could have done for extortion, _if_ he’d been able to make it work. Satisfaction was something Harvey felt when he’d _done_ something, but Kendall had fallen into his own trap at last. It was just, it was inevitable, and someone else was dealing with it. Good.

 

Mike needed this more than Harvey did. He needed to _know_ that Jonathan was an abuser. He needed to really understand and believe that what happened between them was a pattern of Jonathan’s, and Mike never would have orchestrated something like that on his own. These charges really confirmed Jonathan’s character and what he was capable of. If Mike had been placing excessive blame on himself, which Harvey knew he had been, this is where it needed to stop. Jonathan would be found guilty.

 

Mike’s foot nudged Harvey’s and he exhaled, letting himself smile. He saw a hand rise across the table, and he responded in magnetic instinct, landing a perfect high-five. But they could do better. Harvey reached across the little table and Mike leaned into his soft, easy kiss the second Harvey’s hand touched his neck. Mike propped his elbows on the table and held both Harvey’s arms, keeping him from sitting back again.

 

“I don’t know why I’m so happy,” Mike confessed. “I really don’t give a shit what happens to him.”

 

“Me either.” He ran his fingers through Mike’s hair. Harvey was happy, too, and it had nothing to do with justice.

 

Harvey breathed in the lingering scent of Mike’s shampoo (he wanted to work those suds out of his hair in the shower again) and the steam rising from the coffee mug on the table (he wanted to be the one to make coffee tomorrow morning). How could he have been prepared to needlessly invest so much time and effort in someone he hated while he’d given Mike the cold shoulder time and time again? How could he ever have thought that he could use the same strategies on his enemies – secrecy – as his allies? That had to change. It was time to re-evaluate his priorities, the first of which being to sit at that table across from Mike for as long as possible. Slow and easy. That’s how they would win this one.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


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